I’ve gotten better at standing it
She smiles and I
No longer cringe
But fuck,
She’s staring at me,
Awaiting my response
It’s ridiculous for her to think
That I can talk when
The cat’s got my tongue
That sly little creature
Why didn’t I feed her?
Regret not feeding the pet
Maybe I can retrieve my tongue if I
Take the dumb cat to the vet
“Victoria?” the girl asks again
Shit, I still haven’t said anything
Maybe I should write her
So she’ll know what I want to be saying
But I can’t find a pen
So she won’t know I want to make amends
Excuses are my only friends
The pain worsens in my hand
From punching the wall
I’m a frustrated, muted mess
At least I can still see
So I can stare at her golden skin so
Damn pretty
And her
And her nothing
Just fucking speak!

“Are you free on Saturday night?” I ask.


No Comments

Leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: