It isn’t worth it
just to have something to write down
I don’t go out of my way
to experience painful people
They always find me
and their energy drain
like a bathtub
their acidic talk, eats away at me.
I didn’t realize they had taken something from me
until it was too late
like a woman
raped at night
by an incubus.
I went to my parent’s house
to walk it off
but no matter what I said, I couldn’t feel better
and the sun was shining, while I spoke to my mother
“I don’t know if I’m ever going to amount to anything as a writer,” I said.
“Oh—look, aren’t the flowers beautiful?”
“Mom—are you even listening to me? You interrupted me, mid-sentence.”
“I didn’t hear what you said—you’re walking in front of me.”
“Well—why am I even talking to you then? I might as well be talking to myself.”
“I know…” She laughed.
We were in two different places
at the same time.
When we went inside, my dad was making me a steak. “Do you want a whole one?” He asked.
“Sure,” I said, but when I told him so, I wasn’t connected to my stomach
I was feeling sick
“You know what… I think I’m just going to go home and lie down.”
“You’ve had a difficult week,” my mom said.
I got into my truck and thought about drinking…
I know why people do it.
Thankfully, I seldom feel this way.