MUSED
BellaOnline Literary Review
Poppy by Carol Dandrade

Table of Contents

Poetry


Until It Is Not

Billy Manas

I woke up to a text about his mic stand
That I had been driving around with for
Over six months because I never brought
It back after he came through in the clutch
And saved my gig at the yacht club that night.
Isnīt that just like me though?
Those things I hate about myself so much
When I am in a charitable mood I call
Myself a flake and in my darker times, a
Selfish punk and the truth Iīm sure will find
Me somewhere lodged between both as many
Truths seem to do-but I woke up bathed in that
Dark cloud of īsick of myselfī and īcouldnīt I
Just be somebody else today?ī
But none of this is up for judgement
And none of this is necessarily bad or even
Important...it is just life and it is there right up
Until itīs not




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