the night
has grown
tired with
you and
your sorrow.

could you
please shut
up?
could you
peel back
your face?

can't you
won't you
give us
something
more?

is this not
how you
measure
success?

filling little
buckets as
fast as
you can.

the night
will defecate
into each
and every one.

tomorrow
you'll have
to start over.

you'll have to
give way to
tomorrow's sun.

waking from
beneath the
filth of this
abhorrent night.