The Lights Went Out

Friday's too soon. Saturday's too late. When you're looking for the people you don't know anymore. The doll on the dresser grinning rubber teeth. Its lipstick faded. Plastic arms stuck in an empty embrace.

I count the broken hairs at the top of my head. Wondering how long they were that way before I noticed.

Waiting for the sound. Skeletons of happiness crawling inside flattened skins. Making dead things move.

It's always morning. Even when it's dark. Waking up to sober lamps. Hungry windows. While the world out there pretends to know. Who we are.

And I still watch it wondering how I'll ever get there.

The lights go out all the time here. I don't mind the dark. Nothing to do is more than I could ever want. Just hate the waiting. Always waiting.

For them to come back on.