deepundergroundpoetry.com

8 people 7 days 1 bathroom

I've used more expletives
in the last week  
than I've used  
in every month this year  
 
I've cried from tiredness and anger  
I've cried from reasons I can't define  
I might be crying right now  
 
I've slept my way to fitful wakefulness  
every hour a blink edging towards  
the wrong side of sanity's door  
 
I ache from cold and one night  
spent on the floor  
because only foresight was capable  
of telling me it was more  
comfortable than the bed  
and only in hindsight  
can my body tell me I was wrong  
 
The air smells like too many people  
spilt drinks and cigarettes  
and if the scent of weed still lingers  
in the curtains I'm the one to blame  
breaking my one year resolve  
to not get stoned  
 
I've become antisocial  
on the physical plane  
spending all my time on my phone  
in an effort to distract myself  
from the hollow company  
I can't escape  
all my money blown on the weekend  
lured by the city lights  
and a snapped bag strap  
that demanded I replace the whole bag  
 
And now I am counting down the hours  
until I can go home and spend  
a week in my room alone  
 
Because fate has decided  
I won't find happiness  
in the company of family  
opinions and agendas clashing  
on the way to World War 3  
 
(C) Indie Adams 2016
Indie
Written by Indie (Miss Indie)
Published | Edited 8th Oct 2016
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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