Disappointment

My mind
is distorted
from a lack of intoxicants
aside from tobacco, leaving the tan room
somewhat yellow
and everything dusty
gruesomely caked in dirt.

It's times like these
after days as such
where I spend throwaway minutes
doodling your name
after a week of not speaking
that the clock has become
misconstrued as I am.

I have another half an hour
before I'm forced to sit under lamp light
with a mechanical pencil
and a sullied notebook
as well as nothing to say
except that there's an empty space
between myself and the wall
where I think you'd fit quite nice.

Dreams are ridiculous
as they have been, and you making
me want every last bit of you
has left me to dream of nothing
I can remember but your smile
which at this point I'd gladly
tear from your face
to keep as some sadistic token
of not being able to kiss you
right here, right now.

Being young I have little control
over most things
but I think who's hand
I'd like to hold should matter
as much as it makes me feel it should
so I can appease my young heart
with the young love
that I lack.