Zopiclone bandit
Temporary Ban
- Joined
- Jan 25, 2018
- Messages
- 14,843
the room smells of stale coffee and tobacco
and the radio is playing some song from 1974 that nobody remembers anymore.
sorrow isn't a grand theater; it’s just a wet pair of socks and a Tuesday afternoon
that lasts for about six months.
it sits on the edge of the bed
looking at you with heavy eyes, not asking for much—just enough space to breathe
and a corner to call its own.
you don't fight it off with poetry or drink it away with cheap wine;
you just watch the dust dancing in the weak sunlight
and wait for the kettle to boil, knowing tomorrow will probably look a lot like today,
and that's alright, it's just the way the floorboards creak.
and the radio is playing some song from 1974 that nobody remembers anymore.
sorrow isn't a grand theater; it’s just a wet pair of socks and a Tuesday afternoon
that lasts for about six months.
it sits on the edge of the bed
looking at you with heavy eyes, not asking for much—just enough space to breathe
and a corner to call its own.
you don't fight it off with poetry or drink it away with cheap wine;
you just watch the dust dancing in the weak sunlight
and wait for the kettle to boil, knowing tomorrow will probably look a lot like today,
and that's alright, it's just the way the floorboards creak.
