Sixteen Unpublished Poems Poem by D. M. L. Catseye

Most of the time, I’m at a loss for words.
Or I’m grappling with too many of them.
And I wanna be in your arms,
I’m always just so cold without you.

I write so often yet never enough,
'cos there's much more left to say
what I said to you is the hardest truth
it was easy in the silence of your room,

Or the loud music in your car, I decided,
I want to be wherever you are.
And I was, for a week, I saw you in my sleep,
now you turn your back on me, I’m sent out to the street

I’ve been spending too much time in my car
I went and broke my goddamn heart
Taking things I should not have
and losing things I should not lose.

I have sixteen unpublished poems,
waiting for me to press send.
There are sixty more in my head
hoping my life won’t end.

it doesn’t feel like Tuesday

but in reality what does a Tuesday feel like
Feels like a Sunday, feels like death,
don’t want to be here and I want it to be Tuesday
to go back to what it was like before I messed everything up

You once told me that you don’t sleep,
now I know it’s true.
because every time that I woke up
You did too.