I Hate Your Face Poem by I AM THAT MOUSE

i put today on repeat and start all over again
i wake up in the morning and reach for my pen
and into a hiding place for writing i off and retreat.

the day then ends and i fade into the swoon
trying to remember how i spent my afternoon
ah yes, prescription cocktails and vodka blends.

comfortable with the haze i rolled another for luck
and continued to write about that miserable f cuk
oh how do i hate thee, let me count the ways.

now do you see the mistake of leaving behind the pills
they don't stop the pain but they give me the chills
and some even aid in keeping this girl awake.

my thought on tomorrow is what's in it for me
after cutting you loose i expected to run free
not to be drowning in liquors and sorrow.

so i continue to escape to where poets go
clouded by smoke and propelled by the snow
and write you as a distorted shape,
of existence.