(no subject)

[porfirio_diez]

on monday morning

it's still sunday night for me,
the bathroom reeks with angst,
the floor is wet with blood.
the tile's so cold.
the coke's all gone.
the inspiration is lost.
no one cares.
i could be dead for all they care.
but
if i could stop convulsing
i could pick myself up and scavenge for
more.
that's all anyone wants.
but i don't want more.
yes i do.
no, i want to sleep.
please eyes, will you shut. just this once.
just go away.
take me somewhere
other than here.
somewhere well-lighted where
we don't have to be afraid. where
i can feel again. where
i can sing again
and laugh but
not fake laugh.
real laughs that
make you warm and
hurt a little.
the ones that make you sad
because you wish you could feel
like that all the time.
you wish it hasn't been so long
since you felt it.
but i'm all that is left.
me and my hope
and my wants.
i want to have somewhere to go
on monday morning.
sometimes, i pretend i do.
i want to fall asleep early,
tired from a day searching,
not running.
from a day of no waiting or losing
everything that has any meaning
or any relevance to
some kind of purpose i intend to portray.
it's not like that today.
no monday ever has been.
maybe next week.