I’ll Take My Gin in a Coffee Mug

I’m drinking my gin in a coffee mug

All my other glasses are sitting in the sink

waiting to be made clean

I decided that however sad I might look

gin tastes the same no matter the cup

It’s equal amounts gin and diet tonic

No lime simply because I was too lazy to cut it

I’m trying to forget that I’m home alone

and that the next couple of hours will drag

As slow as the moon across the sky

making nine o’clock to ten o’clock 

then somehow the clock goes back to nine

Like time never moved though I swear

It was at least five in the morning

With me still laying mostly awake 

in my queen size bed

I lay in the middle exactly

Staring at the wall in a kind of discomfort 

that comes with waiting for a lover

to never call

Anxiety a trickle on my skin

Creepy crawling up and down my limbs

On my mind

is the mess that awaits for me in my kitchen,

How my messes are a direct reflection

of the brokenness that comes from 

feeling like nobody’s friend

I could die in this sorrow

And the cycle would finally end

My sister would raise my child

in better circumstances 

than my bank account and endless depression

His uncle Derek would be a father figure

and my failures could be a thing of memory

My friends…well if there were any

would come to clean out my place

Possibly one of them noticing 

the mug of gin sitting mostly empty

next to the bed that I laid awake in

where I wasted hours wondering 

about life without love 

and if it would finally be that which kills me

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