13th Entry

Flicker

You asked for my number every day
and forgot them in any and every single
way. You might lose your phone, or
wipe your card.
Perhaps you lost the paper, or the combination's too hard
to remember,
and yet you remember my
favorite seat in every cafe,
where I got my groceries or
takeaway, you'd come with me,
walk by me, and I liked this,
I liked the way you never tire of asking
"Lady may I have your number, please
(I lost it again, I'm sorry)" even though you
probably have it memorized -
just a little white lie, and you
do it with such poise.
It's the way you stand over me as I
drink my coffee, I'm no Sophocles, but I
appreciate your theatrics, bringing me my
sugar and
cream.

You sit down and I slide down, I
hide behind the coffee steam as you
ask for my number once again.
But friend, you don't see behind my
curtains, you're certain you know me,
but I wipe my face for you, I
drown myself to
sober my eyes, I
claw myself to
straighten my hair,
every day, for you, as my alcohol shallows and the
sleeping pills dwindles,
this is why I haven't invited over you yet.

You tell me your name on every day
and I forget it in any and every way,
over the whiskey, or 'cause of the pills,
because you love me and because love
kills.
Every night my life flickers by,
and, every night, I try to commit suicide,
suave stranger,
your kindness strangles me, you don't
see what I burden I can be.
Forget my number for the last time.