I’m woken up by a discomfort
Of a gun pressing against me.
My fantasies and dreams
Have been merciful again;
But Reality has just checked in.
The gun then whispers,
“You failed again last night.”
I look at the familiar walls.
Spider webs so thick that
I should consider sleeping on them sometime.
I heard that thinking about a friend helps;
But I can’t remember any of their faces.
At least a lizard still sticks around my room.
The gun whispers something again,
But something else is screaming.
It’s my book of poems.
She lies dusty on my shelf.
I could go fetch her,
Except I don’t have any enthusiasm;
Even to masturbate.
So I start crying!
_____________________to be continued_____