Pacing Around The Kitchen In The Dark While Everyone Is Asleep Poem by Raj Dronamraju

I am the only one awake
And I'll be the one giving orders
Embracing the rituals that I publicly denigrate
I'll be looking at anything to take the edge off

And though my tirades occur without a witness
A rustling in the walls perhaps the mice are disturbed
They leave a mark which in daylight hours will point to as tired and withdrawn
The source for such an unhealthy anxiousness, that which cannot be faced during daylight

Late of God, late of family
Nothing exists except the stewing over, the toxic turning and re-turning over, the indescribable combination
And I'm taking short steps over the hard marble floor
The pat pat noise my feet make are not loud enough to wake anyone up

I'm thinking despite efforts not to
I'm thinking and my two hands form a strangling motion
And the wringing of my hands, the wringing of a neck
The neck equals all that has frustrated me, all that has been denied me

As if all that could take the form of something two hands could take out their anger out on
That's the anger that makes tired men awake
As if they drank several cups of coffee

Such assigned portioning out of my life 'a job' 'a wife'
But I need this time to bleed messily, unhealthily
Let them continue to see me as one of the crowd
I'll make my plans at night when everyone's asleep