i'm only here
because i'm not there.
it's better here
because you are not with me.
you are at some other place
hitting the walls, waiting to faint
i can't keep up with your ways
i'm sorry, but i don't care.
at least now, at this right moment.
all i want for you is to eat your own tongue
and to chew it in small pieces
so you can't glue it together
because of the missing parts.
i know it sounds cruel
but i am tired
and wish for nothing but solitude
and that's all.
an old man is crossing the streets
he stepped shyly into the sidewalk and walked slowly
into his garage door.
he collects stuff i think-
because his garage is full of old furniture.
i don't know his name but
i know his wife is called sharon.
i like to imagine his name is ozzy
and that my neighbors are the osbournes.
i know this because he is always screaming her name-
"what?", sharon replied
"where's the remote?", the old man asked
'i don't know!", screamed sharon, who likes to wear sports bras
and always goes every afternoon to the supermarket and brings lots of detergent,
like clorox and makes a small boy, whom I’ve assumed is the grandson of the couple,
to lift boxes of whatever sharon bought in the supermarket besides the clorox.
i have never said hi to them
but I like to imagine all sorts of scenarios
were i say hello and they ignore me or i say hi
and they act too nice towards me.
that would be a problem because i don’t know how to
make excuses when i want to get out of certain situations.
it’ll be just awkward. for now, i’ll just keep watching from my window.