Alone on a Friday, Saturday, Sunday night
I’m literally writing this while all alone on a Friday night…again
They’re all watching me
I do more to stand in
But they know
Once alone
Twice alone
All alone
All the time
The weekend comes and goes like a childhood blur
And I have nothing to account for it
But three days
All alone
Sometimes needed
But still never quite wanted
No one checks
Yet everyone is aware
How can one be the center of attention
Yet the only one left out of the party
I’ve known this feeling
Once
Twice
All my life
I wonder if they know that
Or if they think it’s my first time
Maybe I’m being stood up by a girl
Maybe I’m waiting on a friend
No.
There was no girl
Never a friend
Always just one
No two
No all
Neither
Friday
Nor
Saturday
Nor
Sunday
Night
Do we know
Together
About the Creator
Jay,when I write
Hello.
What?
23, Black, queer, yup
Keep reading
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Like every warm day, Terrence is finishing this day on his L-shaped porch, sipping whisky from a dented flask. Cars pass by slowly, and he watches young women pushing babies in strollers; he hears the neighbors’ arguments and knows which have a regular income and those who are unemployed. Terrence is the self-appointed block mayor, laying judgment on his fellow folk.
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