Something Unheard

her - chorus of life

Another night,

another dive bar.

I scowl at our lead guitarist

as he flirts with a

waitress.

Instead of calling

him out on it again

I scrawl

some lyrics on a

napkin.

The are about

static cling of a voice

that's been repeatingin my head,

paired with brandy

eyes that

make me drunk like wine.

I am midway throughthe last line

when I get jerked

back up on stage.

We only have one

more set

before we can call

it a night.

The whole thing is getting

kind of repetitive,

like the chorus of life.

Our vocalist begs me to

spend the night at his place and

I unwillingly oblige.

Even this has become routine.

He takes a smoke break

at the front door of his apartment

and whispers for

me to get ready for him

while I wait

before pressing a hard

kiss to my lips.

I stumble backwards

as he laughs.

Climbing the stairs I

search the apartment doors

and despite the repetitiveness

I can't remember

the number: 202, 208?

I blindly choose after an

internal game of

eenie,

meanie,

miney,

moe.

Stupid idiot

left his door unlocked.