and my beer is alone
i start wishing that i could
smoke
just so
i could do something else
and not look awkward
sitting in front of you
watching the ice melt.
i ask what's wrong
and all i get
is a monosyllabic response.
i nod,
pretending satisfied
when deep inside
i explode in little, miserable
pieces
very slowly
that i suddenly grab my beer
and drink all of it
without ice.
you ask
what's wrong
and i give you
a monosyllabic response.
you nod,
looking satisfied
and i start asking myself
what's the point of me staying
when this is how you make me
feel.
but i always stay
and the fact of me staying here
makes me wish
that i could smoke
just so
i wouldn't look awkward.
- written august 11, 2008
