w 23rd st

catefrances

wet towels piled in the corner, dirty
sheets crumpled at the foot of the bed
there were three now there's only one
where did the others go?
she asks, she doesn't get an answer
ashtray overflowing
empty bottles dead on the carpet
curtains drawn tight
no light in this room
snow covers the city
they remain unaware
a body restlesss facedown
she leaves him be
she needs some distance
she walks for hours
he barely acknowledges her return
today is her birthday
she wishes she wasnt there
no... she wishes he didnt do this to himself
she tells him
he doesnt hear her
or
he doesnt care
or
this is all he knows
it's easy for him to fall into these patterns
it's not easy for her to watch
she aches as he does, but for different reasons