dark night

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first draft inspired by blue monk reading everyone glorious alive i have to wake in 6 hours and work is hate

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Dark Night
maybe the universe gets its kicks when we get gloomy
she sticks the sun deep into her pocket
snaps her fingers and it rains on me
I get cold always forever it seems forever
i can’t call anyone and talk about it
i’m cold, i have 50 friends i can’t lift the phone
the universe bares her breasts, glorious, scary
i want to die i can’t take a shower i cant lift the page
from my stack to get to the words i need
to stay stay here alive next week is too far
i am a circle of suffering i don’t know how to move
in a straight line anymore cold cold cold bared breast
of universe i am not allowed to suck i am hungry
3 packs of cigarettes a day hungry i steal i’m
still hungry i sit in the rain i forget that love has left
her crumbs beneath the door i can’t move to
i cant move, i cant move from this miserable chair
the radio said it’s a beautiful day, better enjoy it
tomorrow is rain i say to the radio today is rain
you don’t speak for me! you don’t speak for my
suffering loves, friends, 50--each with a dark night
time table of their own--stabbed in the side,
hung on the cross is each of us, each in our own time
and the hieroglyphs of tears is all i can write
in this time of rain, cold sun stuffed in a pocket
i ask the universe nicely, please, please sunshine
on my face like when i was a child playful child
i wanna play again again in the sun, a new god
at play unworried no cross no cold just i wanna be
please can i have that again just 5 minutes please
the universe laughs says its not personal you take
everything so personal just relax and roll with it
you are an adult now work work money money
if a man doesn’t work a man shouldn’t eat just
roll with it man the universe said to me
and i said, don’t take it personally? serious?
do you see the mold on my dish i cant wash!
the impossible pile of unopened mail i cant open
myself its too hard i write myself strong i am not
strong cold wet sun in your pocket dark night too
long i gotta call somebody the universe ain’t no help
work is worst worst worst money terrible food
money beer smokes i am chained to these
and my friends i cant tell them i cant wash a dish
i can’t wash myself i can’t change my shirt
i cant lift a page i cant love them i cant lose them
i cant talk to them until the sun is glued to the sky
and i’m once again a boy, playful new god
i can’t talk to them again until i am the i that’s fun,
until i am the i they love