Like standing in an empty apartment in Spring
the windows open and the last box under your arm;
Like your girlfriend just broke up with you
on a downtown sidewalk
while explaining why she’s holding hands with another guy;
Like standing in the middle of your living room
all dressed up with no place to go
because no one will call you back;
Like waking up between stations
the last one being yours
and the next one an hour away
when you were already running late for your job interview;
Like coming home after a funeral
and everything looking like the set from a show that’s been cancelled;
Like your car breaking down on the highway
and realizing your cell phone is out of juice;
Like pissing yourself in the middle of a full class
and listening to it drip from your seat to the floor
while the second hand moves like the hour hand;
Like a house with no water service;
Like a pink slip in your mailbox
first thing in the morning;
Like a doctor telling you you’ve got six months;
Like your child taking its last breath in your arms
after getting hit by a car
because you let go;
Like realizing God is a stranger
because you won’t look in the mirror.
©1.19.17 ebn
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