Mom: Alright, I love you bunny.
Me: I love you too, Mom.

Solitude

Solitude

Your stomach is killing you!
Like you're holding a cumbersome shit
in the pit of your gut.
So you hum a song that you like, hoping your Gibraltar shit subsides
into two or three slivers of brown ribbon, flowing like that boring waterfall
Mom and Dad dragged you to in the sixth grade.
You smell brewing hazelnut coffee in the kitchen,
and the percolator sounds
as if marching soldier toys chirp with merriment,
with tin feet clacking against concrete.
Two or three cups fall out of the broken cupboard, probably cutting someone's feet.

You like being locked in the bathroom.
Unrolling toilet paper into piles on the floor, running all the hot water until it's all cold.
Shoving disposable razors through the door's threshold so that
the sounds of robot's making love and blenders on frappe bleed together.
And the air is always damp and burdensome, like after you get out of the shower.
Filling your lungs, real thick.

The juicer is going now, so is the stove timer.
It's loud enough keep you awake.
You wrap yourself in a green bathrobe
and rock back and forth on the balls of your feet.
The toilet looks uncannily clean, but time is passing through pinched fingers,
Slow enough so that you know that it's still ladened with filth and dirty
enough to put you in the hospital.
Still, you're thirsty enough to dip your hands in the water,
as if receiving a Communion wafer.
It's cold splashing against your face.
Half bars of Irish Spring feel gritty against your skin,
You bathe anyway.
Wrapped in a clean towel, you press your face against the shag rug.
Encompassed with the smell of wet dog and cinnamon toothpaste,
you're able to fall asleep,
Alone.
For a change.


First draft-_

I hate my family, hate my school, speed limits and the golden rule.
Hate people who aren't what they seem, more than anything else, American Dream.


I hate my job, I hate your God, I hate hypocrites and common slobs.
Hate people who aren't what they seem, more than anything else, American Dream.


...because neighbors! Nobody loves you like Heloves you.