Sitting at a table all alone at the local fast food joint. Staring at two drinks, two straws, two orders of food, and one lone soul. The lady at the register gave me an odd look when I ordered for two but didn't correct me. I have lived on my own for a very long time and I could do it again but I dont want to. There is a pleasant calm in being with company. The chicken in my basket is cold now because I've been waiting for a person who wont be showing up. The fries are soggy and upon closer inspection this sweet tea in my glass tastes like dr pepper. I'm waiting for another voice to fill the silence but still the table remains as quiet as my stomach is empty. I dont even like ketchup.
YOU ARE READING
tears on a page
Poetrya collection of some of my more depressing pieces written many moons ago. so.... enjoy
