poeticjournalism

I wish my pen would give me Something interesting to say Some unique observation about How smog is like a suffocating blanket Or how her eyes are dark Yet hopeful, like a raccoon's Too bad I don't think that way. I wish I could swipe her brain Or perhaps borrow it for a time Maybe her thoughts aren't as static Maybe they're not all from the same place Like mine are. I wish I could adequately describe How the mechanical hum Of this air conditioning unit Gives me such a sense of serenity But I can't. Clearly I am not so serene If I am full of such turmoil The only thing keeping the envy From boiling over Is the hum of the a

It's four A.M. and my headache's burning Third pot of coffee's got me sweating I'm seeing things You in a shadow by the dresser I try to dispel the cruel images Wash my eyes and blow my noise But I still feel you Lingering 'round the corner of my mind I feel like flipping on every damn light In this jail cell of a house Tipping every piece of furniture over So you can't hide anywhere But you're not even here! It's just my addled mind mocking me Telling me “Don't lie to yourself! Clearly you miss him.” I wish my brain had a face 'Cos I'd punch it And I wish my brain had money 'Cos I'd steal it I glare and turn my