Tonight's Poet Corner: Alone Time
Alone Time by Belinda Roddie I will be exactly where you left me yesterday: Drinking lukewarm tea with the bag still drowning in the ceramic abyss; Reading the same newspaper until the heat of my own fingers melts away the urgency; Ignoring the tinned laughter of sitcom reruns on a television set older than I am, and it has seen some serious shit, my dude; Continually rotating my left ankle like it's an awkward cylindrical planet rotating on an axis that technically violates the laws of physics; Wondering why I can't stop rotating my left ankle like it'll fall off if I stop - just drop, like wet clay; Contemplate mortality and heavily question why I still have Bibles in my house because they provide absolutely no comfort; And finally, checking my phone every ten or so minutes to see if you read my messages, or called me back, or already wrote me a eulogy, or simply disappeared.