i am not a drive thru window

Posted on December 1, 2011 in Poetry

i am not a drive thru window
glowing like a beacon in the night
when you’re prowling around
on the fringes
looking for
the familiar light
where your comfort food
comes from
the light that’s always on
that never closes
when you need it
in that rare moment of weakness

greasy, unwrapped
on the passenger seat
shovelled into your mouth
before anyone can see
exactly what it is you’ve eaten
toss the evidence
it never happened

i am not a pizza
you can order to your door
when the craving strikes
warm, gooey, and ready
to keep you company
for the rest of the night
to hug you from the inside
in that thick, layered, spicy way you like
washed down with a fine
bottle of wine
an empty box
to toss out in the morning

a guilty binge
a used wrapper

i am none of these things
but i wonder now
if i should have believed you
when you told me
you weren’t sure you even
know what love is
or ever would or ever did

i am not your accomplice
or your dirty little secret
there’s no blood,
no feeling in it
no authenticity
i’m not sure you even
recognize me
not sure you ever knew me
but if you did
that girl is buried now

disappeared before your eyes
i kept my rage inside
and accommodated
and why?
what for?
i should have wiped the floor with you
but i smiled diplomatically
for the sake of old times
that now I find
are worth nothing more
than a fast bang
behind closed doors
gobbled up as quickly as you can