Not beautiful, but true

it's come up again
the sun and its colors
no matter how bad things get, it comes up beautiful when night slips off
hands slammed in doors, threats of suicide
and breakfast again, together, when the sun comes up
like eggs over easy
served up afresh, and you can eat them
any way you want
today

we wound down a familiar road
i felt like a stranger
in a good way
moving our bodies together
feeling the building buzz around us
independent
and when sickness overtook
i went outside and called
because i thought he would understand this feeling
of sickness
unwantedness
darkness inside
and that was not fair.

i puked so much! over and over
in the sink, out the window, out the window
was so surprised to be back in the car, finally
in the hum and warm
shuttling away from the watchers

once home (home?), acquainted myself with the corner
tried to explain myself to the rage
didn't do a good job
bitterness in my throat.