MUSED Literary Magazine.
Poetry

Rock Bottom

Isabelle Kenyon

Slunk to a hotel room,
Gave you the number you came later
for your hotel room rehab.

You needed to feel so you drank into oblivion,
made sure I stayed
put
Pressure
so I missed lectures,
cried at funny times and wasted days,
tried to patch up my life and yours.

but you pulled harder on the strings,
My puppet self loved you,
Absorbed, craving you craving me,
all consumed.

Light exposed you deny me
three times
maybe more,
Pretend never to have known me.
The cock crowed but nobody heard it.