10 votes

12:08

Tags: poetry, poem, folk

So what’s the deal with offices, amirite?

What if we gave a building full of adults enough money to get by. Oh, and also they have to drive 30-60 minutes to get here. And that time they spend on the way here? Yeah what if they just gave us that for free, and we made them pay for parking!

I know, I know, fantastic right? But listen, it’s not over yet. What if we also made the work pointlessly constrained to a particular 8-hour block in the day, five days a week so that they never have any personal time, even though this is all work they could get done in four hours a day and is fully capable of being completed on their own?

Fabulous!

——

So yeah, I don’t have free time. That means I’ve got a few half-ass pieces that I’ve been wanting to finish up for awhile.

Apparently bars are open today, so I’m gonna get sauced and get to it. Prepare for a small dump today. (Also I got some dummy minor news imma share in another post. Stay tuned if you want. Or don’t ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ all’s well.

Anyway here’s that piece now.

——-

I remember that time I forgot your

birthday

And that time was today

At 12:08 in the morning

And for a moment

I felt great.

.

My dear that was the first sign

That you were

Slipping on out of my mind

Today I’m sober in the morning

Feelin okay.

.

Well well-butrin what a surprise

When it done

Come on back to my mind

Now it’s 12:09 in the morning

And ain’t shit changed.

.

And in those 60 seconds

Girl I swear

I learned a lesson -

Depression is a woman

With your name.