The Recluse

I wake alone, in a woman’s room I hardly know.
I wake alone and pretend that I am finally home.
The room is littered with her books and notebooks.
I imagine what they say, like,
‘shoo fly, don’t bother me.”

And I can hardly get myself out of her bed,
For fear of never lying in this bed again.
Oh christ, I’m not that desperate am I?
Oh no – oh god I am.

How’d I end up here to begin with?
I don’t know. why do I start what I can’t finish?
Oh, please don’t barrage me with he questions to all those ugly answers.
My ego’s like my stomach
It keeps shitting what I feed it.
But maybe I don’t want to finish anything anymore
Maybe I can wait in bed until she comes home and
Whispers,
“you’re in my web now – I’ve come to wrap you up tight ‘til it’s time to bite down.”

I wake alone in a woman’s room I hardly know.
I wake alone and pretend that I am finally home.
Home