The morning after.
Title: When you realize that life had been happening while you were asleep, and you think, last night would have been a good time to die. Last night was a very good full-stop place.
Poem: When I opened the refrigerator this morning,
I was crushed under the mountain of yesterdays cold (half eaten) emotions.
Why did we even have that party?
Any why did we step onto the veranda?
I know how you get underneath stars - having to pour everything out of you.
Shivering and half digested things.
A premature birth of semi developed emotions that got caught in your fishnet stockings and ended up cuddled in bed between you and me and the layers of our skin.
Thats how things go when you live in a city,
and everyone you know is busy pretending that they aren’t dieing one day at a time.
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