Kristen de Kline #114 at the end of the day (thanks to Rob Schackne)

I
at the end of the day     what counts
don't tell me it's love     that tears us apart  
the fire     how well do you walk through it

we speak of darkness and of light    
light fades the evening
darkness strangles dawn

you want to sleep for a thousand years
I want to break your heart in two     it's true

you told me all tomorrow's parties
must begin     today

I say the present is over-rated
it's scattered     all over the place    
blackened   taunting   bleached out

When you put it on paper   it doesn't add up
anything     anymore

II
I wake up in a hotel room: purple candlewick bedspread, single bed
Somebody passes me a security buzzer set of keys and a jar of instant coffee
It's August
It's Melbourne
It's cold
I wish I'd packed my red ugh boots lipsticks poetry books zines
the three wise monkeys figurine that sat on my desk
I want a cold beer in my palm
a dozen oysters with a lemon wedge and Tabasco garnish
I want to sleep     for a thousand years
stub out another cigarette through the ripped denim on my knee
break myself in two     it's true

When you write it down     it doesn't add up
anymore     anything