What more is there to write about?

Write more about me, he urges

A fury deep within her surges

She yells out

What more is there to write about?

*

He fought and lost and savagely slurred

She used up all her lovely words

She cries when she can no longer shout

What more is there to write about?

*

His promises turn to vapor

She refuses to put pen to paper

In fear of the truth leaking out

Something she can’t write about

*

She sometimes loves him when she’s sleeping

And dreams that there’s no secret-keeping

Her morning coffee tastes of doubt

What more is there to write about?

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a 2 hour moment

Image result for happy while dancing artistic photo

 

9pm

We dance on the wet grass like the losers we are

shoes piled up by the speakers

I’ve lost the upper register of my voice

and whatever makeup I had put on

to the singing and the sweating

but oh boy is it worth it

my feet are covered in dew

my hair is coming out and

tendrils cling to my face

it smells faintly of B.O. and my knee is aching

but oh boy is it worth it

sing, swing, cling, throw a few screams out

and a high kick if you’re feeling it

laughter echoes above the music

*

11pm

We trudge inside like the losers we are

but that night I sleep with a smile