more poetry...

sorry, but the thing is, I am in an Advanced Creative Writing Poetry Workshop... so this is where much of my writing is coming from...


Watering my Garden

It comes at four in the morning, too.
The rodent wheels
in my mind spinning.
Flashbacks of the best sex,
shared showers, and hours spent
wrapped up in each other.

Of course.

It grips at my stomach
Chan-nel-lock blue tight
and wrenches.

Sleep is impossible.
Flipping around in bed
like a landlocked fish,
uncomfortable,
In a cold sweat.
This struggling cant seem to throw
thoughts of past encounters
and conquest of the opposite sex.

Then the questioning begins,
Why am I still here? It’s not
what it used to be.
Excuses tug at my hair,
pointing my wandering eye
in another direction.

As my heart drops
at yet another lapse in faithfulness, I sit up
and decide to start my day early.

The garden will get watered at 5:20 today.