I like the empty home, I really do
Somedays when my body is in pain, my head screams of pain
I have no one to talk to me
It is the best part, being alone
The women I know want to talk
And I don't
I must have hit my head, I gather
There is a stench of blood in my breath
At this point, who cares
Oh I do
If I survive, laundry day would be so much trouble
Of such, the dead me would not need to know
Everything in my body hurts
But my heart doesn't
This is not just a choice
This is where evolution brought me
I do love
I can feel
I even understand the delirium of you
But I just won't give in to such illusions too
Monday, grimacing Monday
It arrives tomorrow
I abhor it, of late
And not a lifetime too soon
I find myself amidst people
Enslaved to relationships
I hate them
And I hate Mondays too
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