Dinner
I sit,
Staring at the contents,
Of what I think is a chicken,
It doesn't look right,
Doesn't look good.
Peas sit beside it,
Green like trees,
They once lived in pods,
But came out to be eaten,
How nice of them.
She's complaining again,
Always talking,
Can't shut up,
Can't listen,
Her voice is the only thing she hears.
He listens, but doesn't hear her,
They argue,
She says I should pay,
He says it's just a game,
I say this is my life.
Blah, blah, blah,
That's all I hear,
Him telling her,
Her telling him,
Can't they just duct tape their mouths?
"I'm tired. Goodnight,"
I lied,
That's what I do sometimes,
Like right now.
My computer is open,
Calling to me,
Then I see the envelope.
And I turn into a heart-shaped fire.
YOU ARE READING
Virtual
ПоэзияNova loves three things: food, her computer, and her music. She might love Gage too, but why even try? She's Nova the Nobody. This "book" is told through poems. See the Author's Note.
