Tired, Mad, Sobering

Television, oh God, stop!

Really, it's obnoxious.

Who was on the phone? Uh, just, later.

Where's the time gone? I had so much to do,

and then I had a few drinks.

Lazy fuck, or distracted- GOD!

I can't take the noise.

Toronto, fuck you.

Cement, queers, ugly

fucking

shoes,

go to hell.

This angry spill is...

angry!

Or should I be more articulate?

Something like,

if lips could touch the soul,

I'd kiss my sad rage into your heart,

breathe sorry for me into your mouth

and take

if lips could touch the soul,

I'd paint chapstick all over and

kiss/fix your cracked and swollen spirit

only to doubt you

And still, after all that,

the television is being an asshole.