Dazed Commitment

I’ll leave you there beside the bed. On top of the drawers staring at me. Pleading. I’m sure your produce will be used by myself one day, but whether you’re the tool to my demise or not is still hanging in the air. You scare me, you see, you scare many. You are daunting to hold and daring to own. Ever since you came into my life though, I’ve been wondering if I have become your possession. I walk in after a successful day, and you threaten to strip me of my suit and tie. You reduce me to my most minor, and one day I’ll thank you for that. But not today.

You are too definitive. A full stop. I don’t have the balls. You disappear when I am drunk, I respect myself enough to hide your doom in preparation for my impending intoxication. Half asleep is when I might do it. A dazed commitment, enough of me will want it, and that part won’t have the wherewithal to complicate considerations. Finally, I’ll rid myself of the propensity to think, a divorce of calculation. You’ll become the mistake I’ll never regret.

The weather is foggy. The fog battles the night, but we all know who will win. It will be over by the time I get home, my face illuminated by a lit cigarette, apparently desperate to be seen. The streets are empty for all I know, and it is feeling more like today. As draining as my job is, today, it was manageable. In fact, I’d say today went smoothly. No client interventions, no disheartening assaults from my boss. Still, I am exhausted.

The clouds look comfortable. The rain begins and gives my face an excuse. Soaked, I barge in the door. My flat is not too different from the dark vacuum I just left. Well, I suppose I have you in here. There are versions of you outside, of course, other ways to give me what I want. But you are by far the easiest.

I am just awake enough to rest, and I thank you for being there for this special occasion.