3x7

3x7
 
it’s 3am again and my eyes are nailed open
by my own insomniac dementia
I mime a cigarette to my lips
old habits still come to the fore
when you’ve lost everything except
except the ability
to awake and drag your carcass
to work
because you made a commitment
you made it and now you have to suffer
for the art
I pretend to remember the time my ancestors
had time to think
to breathe
to do anything more than stare
at blinking cursors and flashing lights
 
my ADHD loves that light
it’s iridescent butterflies
falling from the heavens
to snatch my attention and drown
it
in a sea of soft porn
hard porn or even just a
deluge of clips that mean nothing
enhance nothing
an hour lost into unblinking stares
and now I’m scrabbling to find it
 
all this is just excuses so I don’t have to get up
drag my aches into a shower that
you used to join me in
there’s a barking dog
a hissing cat
in the back ground
patter of rain on tin
the cursor still blinks
like an impatient man with a disapproving
expression
the way my father used to wait for me to
conform to his wishes before he lost his temper
and I lost consciousness
later I’d lay awake in terror trying not to piss the bed
because he was drunk and I was prey to
his Hyde-side
 
I’m rambling words at nothing
no one cares  
but there’s solace in the soft glow
I confess that I wish I had made better decisions
but I never regret that we met
that we were
and what I could accept
but not give
 
all this to say love is a dirty word
I need to go to work
because that’s the easiest way to walk away
from an obligation
overshadow it
with one that seems more important