deepundergroundpoetry.com
Checking In
You came by unannounced,
finding my doorway dark.
You knocked, anyway ~
loudly
and repeatedly,
until I had no choice
but to let you in.
You tell me I look tired ~
am I getting enough sleep?
You don’t wait for an answer,
which is just as well;
I don’t have the one you want.
You definitely don’t want to hear
about the nights I’m laying awake
thinking of all the ways there are
to disappear and be forgotten.
Your animated voice
bounces nervously on your lips
before jumping, landing somewhere
between my ears and neck;
I can’t stop staring at your nails.
I also have no idea
what you’re talking about now,
I’m too busy
pulling your words apart
like sticky pages;
I watch them drip on your silk shirt;
down, down they ruin your intentions.
The thing I’ve learned (the hard way)
about gooey platitudes
is that they taste so good
it’s easy to forget
they are devoid of nutrition;
I watch them all spill from your mouth.
They leave me fat and starving.
I feel irrationally angry.
I want to tell you to go away,
but you won’t until I absolve you,
so I tell you I’m fine, really.
We both choose to believe me.
finding my doorway dark.
You knocked, anyway ~
loudly
and repeatedly,
until I had no choice
but to let you in.
You tell me I look tired ~
am I getting enough sleep?
You don’t wait for an answer,
which is just as well;
I don’t have the one you want.
You definitely don’t want to hear
about the nights I’m laying awake
thinking of all the ways there are
to disappear and be forgotten.
Your animated voice
bounces nervously on your lips
before jumping, landing somewhere
between my ears and neck;
I can’t stop staring at your nails.
I also have no idea
what you’re talking about now,
I’m too busy
pulling your words apart
like sticky pages;
I watch them drip on your silk shirt;
down, down they ruin your intentions.
The thing I’ve learned (the hard way)
about gooey platitudes
is that they taste so good
it’s easy to forget
they are devoid of nutrition;
I watch them all spill from your mouth.
They leave me fat and starving.
I feel irrationally angry.
I want to tell you to go away,
but you won’t until I absolve you,
so I tell you I’m fine, really.
We both choose to believe me.
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