Waiting room
In the dead of morning, Your furrowed brow knits me a lifetime’s worth of winter coats Reclining into the glassy bloodshot river of your eyes- I have stopped caring that we can’t get a seat in this rotten room. Their pupils roll like dice upwards to those swollen eyelids and their head drops to their chest. An exhale, and the breath-scent of sour, self inflicted tears fall toward me. Our friend is so impossible to look at. So I anchor myself to you, Green and unsteady, ironically heroic From when I couldn’t watch the needle pierce their fragile skin, And, stepping forward, you said everything will get better now. A lifetime later, you will cry Just as I did before- hopelessly, childishly- and as the sun rises we will crawl weakly into bed with no words left to say. But tonight, I have never seen anything quite like you. A bravery that makes me brave Your vomit in the men’s toilet (I love you disgustingly all the more for it) And palms that face outwards so g...