the roof is just a frame for the holes that keep me cold in winter
hot in summer,
wet when drunk.
i prop the doors against the spaces that keep her out
but she shows up anyway and shouts through the cracks.
MY HOUSE my solitude my drunkenness my life.
it takes two 30 packs to lay me down to sleep
chased with xanax and hatred
and she thinks i care, just because she does
but i never have
never will never will
i shout back and call her names that hurt her heart, but not hard enough,
until she goes and lays down under her own damn sky.
i lay lonely under mine, just the way i like it,
and ain't nothing but darkness up there
nothing but nothing
and jesus god i pray for even more of the same;
it can't get dark enough.
even when it scares me.
writing in the opposite gender.
perfect timing for this bit of truth.
i've been trying to see things from his side for a long time.