I know you are leaving,
but I really don’t care.
As long as you do your job
before you go to the fair.
Make sure that I have water
and don’t forget the food;
clean my litter box well
so I’m not in a foul mood.
Have fun or don’t,
it’s no matter to me,
but know that with a cat
is the best place to be.
As the night drags on,
it becomes abundantly clear
I’ve got nothing else to say;
my words just disappear.
My brain shuts down,
one neuron at a time,
as my eyes grow heavier
long after their prime.
Sleep finds others
but always evades me
while I wait in darkness
unable to see.
The last time I ran my fingers
through your hair,
you were as good as gone.
I could tell from your eyes
as they ran from mine
that something was wrong.
Your voice must have gotten lost
on its way out;
I didn’t hear a peep.
And in a moment meant to be
so intimate and sweet,
all I could feel
was absolutely cheap.
Flame can burn
or flame can warm
and ice can cure
or ice can harm.
Take good care
and heed advice
before you burn
as cold as ice.
Brisk chill in the air,
change is inevitable.
Colors bloom in trees.
Burnt toast,
coffee brewing,
bacon sizzling,
plates clattering.
Sweet desire,
heavy breathing,
clothes shedding,
sheets wrinkling.
Light perfume,
glances fleeting,
glasses clinking,
people meeting.
Coffee brewing.
Too much to do
and so little time;
we’ve heard it before
and still we are blind.
Soon there will be
nothing to do
and no time left
for just me and you.
Time does not slow
and life does not yield
for excuses made
and promises sealed.
Forget tomorrow
and even yesterday
and focus on the now
of what can happen today.
I was sleeping peacefully
before you came along
strumming your guitar
and singing that song.
Have you any clue
how annoying you are,
walking around the house
like a crazy pop star?
It’s not just an annoyance,
you waking me up,
but disturbing the peace
like a riled-up pup.
How will I function
on so little rest?
A cat needs 23 hours
to be at her absolute best.
Words
yearning to be free.
Looks
passing from you to me.
Chances
missed opportunity.
Exits
such finality.
I am not happy
but I am not sad,
instead somewhere between
content and mad.
The longer I stay here,
the more jaded I’ll be
by the feelings that betray
the deepest parts of me.
I am not stressed,
nor worry-free
but the weight of the world
is more than it seems.
The longer I hold it
the weaker I’ll be;
unable to hold my own
on the merciless streets.
I am not happy
but I am not sad,
I am just trying to be
better than bad.
Autumn Siders 