And in the morning
When I wake up
As the sun begins to rear its ugly head
What I’m thinking
– all I can –
Is of the who and what and where and why and when Of the things that I
That I have ruined
That I have ruined and that I have just let down
All the things that I
That I won’t fix today
That I can’t make go away as much as I will try
A cheerful smile
A playful kiss
A change in chemistry,
Wine, food and friends
Things all look good now
My life is great
So why isn’t it all
I fear my heart is what’s being carted in that train
And in the evening
When I lay down
As the comfort of the hostile rays does fade
What I am thinking
Is all I can
And I convince myself that I am not a man
I am a creature
A vile beast
I may have intellect but it works only for me
I have a conscience
It is a curse
Because the slightest ill I do comes so much worse When I am laying
In night’s embrace
Realizing that it’s pen you can’t erase
I turn them over
My shameful stars
And polish them till all that’s left of me sheens