The Blogtastic Blogfest That Is Getmeoutofthis.net!

Yep, love poetry. Here we go.

Work Schedules
For Brer

A vague feeling of neglect
injected through asthma inhaler
as another window passes
and I’m stuck, employed.
Our respective masters
walk in different lights,
yours, artificial,
mine a burning fireball
of incandescent gas
I can’t hold in the sky for you
no matter how many oven mitts I buy.

Thus, another day cycle gone
with no you in sight
and I cling to others, available.
We kiss. We use.
And I don’t think of you
while I’m panting and moaning,
short of breath,
lungs failing to function as prescribed,
until I can finally breathe in
with the thought of you working.
I know you don’t mind,
doing the same while I earn,
and I shouldn’t feel bad.

But I do.
You could have watched.
You could have joined in.
You could have been part
of my life.

Physically satisfied,
I give in,
unsatisfied
without you,
knowing tomorrow
I’ll miss you again.