I need a vacuum under my desk
I've made a mess
Pulling mascara from my lashes
Letting it slip through my fingers
Tea leaves that evaded their
Somewhat dangerous fate
Being boiled and then drank
Pieces of plastic from the rim of
A bottle of 5-Hour Energy
Extra strength
Filters from cigarettes that I've cut
Because they didn't give a strong enough puff
Post-Its crumpled on their way to the basket
They sadly didn't make it
There's no reason to mourn though
They're inanimate
Paper-clips that I completely ruined
That day I had a strong magnet
I wanted to see how many I could
Unravel and line-up
Like magic

I can sit and twirl my hair until
My fingers are caught and tangled
In there like a dolphin in a net or a
Little bead of sweat stuck in a pore
- though I don't
Think many beads of sweat would
Make an attractive necklace - I can
Smear my fears on the mirror in here
But I can't get rid of the fact that
I'm unable to find the hidden track
That a black cat means a heart attack
And a scratched back leans towards
A knack of lacking a gift for words in
The pitch black, hatchback, backseat
tours