sunken in couches at coffee shops
have been loved too much
by too many
cushions gone lumpy
legs that can no longer support weight
coffee stains that will never come out
though there’s been many that have loved it
there hasn’t been one that has loved it enough
plays a different song
depending on your mood.
So I make you turn sour grapes
and suddenly Jimmy Eats World
hits the speakers.
I wait; nothing great ever happens.
Blame it on me,
as I drive under the tunnel.
You put the window down,
light a cigarette, and tell me,
"I put my soul into this art ****."
I don't know how to respond
to that statement, so I keep driving.
The smoke leaks out,
covering the night like a quilt.
You ask me, "Where'd you leave the drugs?"
I don't respond.
Tap my shoulder until I twitch
and say, "Cut it out."
But this time, you open the door,
step out to the road,
and ditch me to go watch "La La Land"
with your ex.
I go home and make a tuna melt.
The sunlight is fading and nothing
good is playing on TV.
The couch pulls out into a bed
and there I shut my eyes.
And I tumble into dreams,
dreams where you exist
to hold me up,
of pulling me down.
Little fingers, little toes
It's such a joy to watch you grow
Big bright eyes that greet the day
A crinkled nose with a smile that shines my way
Messy faces at supper time
Couches like mountains that you just have to climb
The wonders of this world seen through your eyes
Such a truly beautiful prize
Child of my child
You have me so beguiled
— The End —