You approached the middle of a crisis like a pissed off drunken Pisces I’m the city you only ever drive right on through. But the time has come to pass where we’re all running out of gas & the cell signal and triple A just both won’t come through. I will never understand the empty ring finger on my hand or why my life’s been an endless white water rapids drive through They say you know when you know & that you reap just what you sow Surly, I wish, that you had knew. Because the shadows they grow long across an unloved lawn that should have been mowed over a week ago. I told the cops about the hole behind your bedroom door and that it’s funny that they had phoned. Because I don’t want this imposter, this wife on loan, to call me anymore I don’t want to eat her dinner and I don’t want her to eat mine, there’s no place for my placemat anyways. It’s not so much my patience we’re just all running out of time I’m tired of being optional I’m tired of being alo
Where conspiracy theories meet feminist theories. (And sometimes there's poems).