I’m the unfinished poem
And you’re the deadline closing in way too soon.
This is not shaping up to be anyone’s best work.
You’re the chair with a faulty seat
And I’m the *** falling through.
Is it my fault for not checking first?
I’m the ambulance sirens wailing outside on your street,
But you’re the silence I need to concentrate.
How are you going to work with this?
You’re the hands typing away
And I’m the keyboard with a missing key.
Or maybe you’re missing a finger?
What about the deadline?
How is this going to work if you’re missing a finger?
Is this what’s making me the ***?
I might be the biggest obstacle you have,
And baby you’re not one for track and field.
Bring your best revision to the table,
I don’t think you’re saving this piece.
Whether this is a creative block or not,
You’re dealing with a failure to write.
Everyone’s been looking
to be seen
On the wall
darling you must know
people aren't what they seem
they are always wearing mirrors
to deflect every single word
so because careful of those people
they only want you to waste away
starting at your reflection
|| this one goes out 2 you ||
— The End —