(no subject)

[robertmousseau]

I grunt from the exhaustion
And I'm somewhere near hysteria;
I’m moving furniture
And future
By lifting life up
By the pound.

I step heavy towards the door
With a thump
And hear a skittered sigh choke
On its shame and desperation.

I smile as I think of one last night,
Hoping that the change comes
With a gin in my hand
And a fistful of nickel.

I'm making friends and making faces;
I’m leaving all of this behind
For the fabled lands of promise
And regret.

I laugh as I think about my last words,
Something small and briefly suitable -
I see me sharing kind advice
And you enjoying
Cause its beautiful.