tick tock

it’s day 9647 and a man made a comment about how i look again

casual, while we were standing near the coffee machine

and all i did was wring my hands

all i ever do is wring my hands

it’s hour 6 and I can’t stop thinking about how my dad sat up in bed that night

after hearing about the coworker who complimented my shirt

followed by what was under it

it’s day 9647 and i keep replaying the times i cried alone on the sticky bathroom floor, then went back and typed out expense reports

clicking on the keyboard and wondering if i should dress in something slightly less tight tomorrow

even though that dress was my favorite shade of lilac

it’s day number 9647

and i can tell you the devil isn’t anywhere near georgia

he’s in the sales office and hangs down near the hr dept

he plays poker the eyes of the man who said goodmorning to me 

and skates in his hands when they get too close

it’s day number 9647

and maybe there won’t be a 9648

and everyone in the building will say what a shame

and pack up my keyboard

and say what a talent what a talent what a shame

then forget about me on day 9649

then susie will be next and nancy will follow

more days more keyboards to pack, less talent, and more shame

so so so so much shame

but not enough to end it

it’s never enough to end it

clothes never loose enough

days never fast enough

coffee never warm enough

and never talented enough to be looked at different

but it’ll always be such a shame

such a shame

such a goddamn shame