The Idle Mind Slits My Throat

it's 7:00 pm
my wife is watching bohemian rhapsody
(the Queen movie)
I could care less about it
how many rock star stories can there be?

I have a ton of pills in me
all for mental illness
(it's hard to admit you're crazy)
the pills don't do much
but make me lethargic
the madness lingers on,
dragging my body along the streets
of wanting something better

I drag too --
on a cigarette
and through my day
I think of another woman's hair
a symphony of brown
I never got a chance to hear with my hands

nothing is happening
mold on stale bread
I knock over my sunglasses
I watch all the light and life that I once had fall with them