Day 334 – Me and the Cleaning Lady

Me and the cleaning lady
we’re always the last ones here
I like to imagine she says goodbye
to her family of 5, or 6, or 7
I see them waving at the door
in my drastic, ridiculous mind
I paint a life for her that I can stand
‘cuz if she was like me I couldn’t bear it
I sure can’t bear myself
breaking down in useless tears
every goddamn night
on the drive back home
I got no reason to cry, I know
but it’s gonna be Christmas soon
and I just don’t want it
give all my holiday cheer
to the cleaning lady’s kids
if they exist

Day 333 – Some Other Chap

Every so often I
stumble across
an outdated version
of myself–
some poor trying fellow
so occupied with
following the same road
that brought me trouble–
I can’t say anything to him
but just the same
I can’t abide him.
We can’t have more than
pleasant conversation
for just a moment or two
for I must be off to follow
the road some other chap’s
been down.

Day 331 – Trust In Spite

There isn’t much I trust these days,
leastways not myself– lord knows
I’ve tried a million ways to put
each piece into its place
but life keeps shaking up the box
so I have learned to let it be–
but I do trust the things that stay
in spite of life, in spite of me
I trust the pieces that remain
every time the shaking stops
and I wouldn’t have believed it
but I know there are some things
not even life can pull apart
in spite of you, in spite of me
I trust the things that never change

Day 328 – Bleach/Button

There are few things that make me want
to suck down a bottle of bleach quite like
“Let’s make a baby and get it over with.”
In jest or in truth, either way
it speaks like a matador’s cape
but it speaks about you–
after all that searching you finally found
the button to push me away
the button to prove you were right
when you know very well
how much I wanted to be wrong

Day 327 – Lot’s Wife

She is the one who looks back
on the land we just left–
the one who never got her own name,
who never got away
and there she stands–
her tears have turned to the sand
in the hour glass
counting all the time she’s lost
second-guessing herself
and for that she remains–
white as the lies she told
and eternally crumbling

Day 326 – Mara

I hear you–
see after all this time
you were needling me
at all the right times
when I thought you were
my sick brain just playing games

To trust is a hard thing
but it is a good thing
when you can learn
to trust in yourself

I never liked your whispers
but your prophecies came true
and when I’m ready
you’ll be looking out and
there’ll be something new–

and I’ll be listening
more closely this time

Day 325 – Perfect By Now

those nightmares came back again
and I guess I let myself get used to
being fine, but that’s not what I find
panic-breathing on the kitchen floor
there is nothing wrong with me
except this shit
12 years ago he gave to me
and after so much therapy
sometimes I do not see the point
I know it helps, but I just think
if there’s nothing else I can’t do
I should’ve been fucking perfect
by now