War Bout Listening

On a midnight mission to make you listen

Trying to stay out of my kitchen

Don’t wanna drink and start trippin

I’m pouring cherry coke and brandy and cognac and whatever brown I got

I’m downing the bottle until I’m in the bottom of it looking up


Thinking too hard about what you saying and not anything that I said

For a second


I think maybe I should have said sorry but then I remember again that you never listen



I can’t even hear you anymore

I’m sliding to the floor, head in my hands

Not wanting to understand

I feel like showing my ass

And later I’ll wonder why you left so fast

And I’ll get up and step on broken bits of plate

Trailing blood on my carpet in a quickly sobered up state

Six in the morning wondering if you’ll come back home or call

Not knowing if I really want you here at all

Not sure if I said that to you or myself

I did a lot of talking and not much else

Maybe if I’d listened I’d know how we both felt


Well you should’ve listened to me in the first place!


One thought on “War Bout Listening

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