Stay Home Again Poem by Maxwell B Anderson

Her clothes get uncomfortable
and she promises(silently, to herself)
to change her hair sometime.
'Might be some rain...'
She hopes,
she gets to the store in time.
And the ache she has had
all week, wont dull.
'Maybe, I'll see the Doctor
and get some pills.'

Three 'failed relationships', doesn't mean
I'm no good; I've just got to
get myself together.
And maybe this time next year,
When I need to go to the store,
I could drive,
instead of walk,
in this weather.

Seven steps to the kitchen,
from the bedroom/loungeroom.
She turns off the boiling electric kettle.
While the patters, from the rain
echo softly enough,
that sort of company,
is gradually getting
more painful.

When,
I change my clothes and
hairstyle, next week;
When I start withdrawal and
I move to a new apartment,
and make the 'scene', I adore.
And, I'll not have to nod off
to these filthy walls.

A place to feel the sting,
without the guilt.
A place to imagine heaven.
Sleep gets in the way
of scoring, and waking,
gets in the way
of heaven..and nodding off
to these filthy walls.