Angelica Tao | + Follow Poet |
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Last Night

I really was going to write something last night. 
But then it became something stronger. 
I really like when a pebble grows all on its own. 
Like a bedroom grows with a strong gust of wind. 

I really was going to write something last night. 
The raspy feeling is everything. 
Grows into a magic whisper. 
Teeters around like the first thing you can think of. 

Then I woke up.
Again, I have things I need to share and also let fall into disrepair. 
Just as well. 
Then it became a puddle again. 

I could have written the best thing. 
I fell asleep so fast though, 
It was the fastest thing. 
Took me away from it all. 

I was going to go and write a world famous song. 
Leaping and crawling all at once. 
Musical horror shows. 
Yet, as nice as that old dresser in the corner. 

Filled filing cabinets. 
Live in the puddle. 
My brain is like a-
Raspy thing. 

I really was going to. 
That's what depression is. 
You were, but you weren’t, but things are things. 
So I didn’t write a thing for a month after that. 

Then it became something stronger. 
Leaping and crawling all at once. 
Fall into disrepair.
Like the filing cabinet. 

So I didn’t write a thing. 
I think I hate it after all.

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