Broken

 

There’s no smile to fake

No branded pill I can hourly take

It is what it is, like the death of a star

The empty tank in a travelling car

Time, they say, it takes a lot

Gobbling moments, losing the plot

Fuck this

Fuck that

Wipe your feet on the welcome mat

Home? A place to dry these bones

To close the curtains and turn off my phone

My nails are bitten

The poems are written

What more can I do

But wait.