Oh It’s You

It’s you

Didn’t see you come in

You’re so



Where were you hiding?

Under the staircase?

In that wine bottle?

Were you between the covers

Of my yearbook?

Because I heard something there

Yammering away


You always make an entrance

And set up a row

Sitting on the stove

Setting yourself on fire

Insisting that I smoke you

For no other reason than

It might be fun

Might be harmless

Or just take you in

Liquid form

Like the inside of a cough drop


But the worst is

When you wake me up

Pretending to be my bladder

But you’re not

You’re not inside me

You’re on my stomach, staring

At me

Pounding on my flesh

Pulling my eyelids

Dragging me here

Where you sit on my knee

And pee


Even when I’m done

And did the best I could

You still don’t let me sleep

You pull at my arm hair

My toes

Kick me in

Bad places

Tell me to sit down

Try again

Try again you can do better

Or do something else

Doesn’t matter

As long as you stay awake

And try again


I always fall asleep

In pain

And in the morning you

Don’t even bother shovelling the driveway

You take the foam off my whipped coffee

Hide my keys because it’s inspiring

Me to hate



On the way to work

You don’t wear a seatbelt

So I pay the tickets

You answer my phone

In a very sexy voice

That doesn’t get me


You eat my lunch

Spit orange seeds on the floor

Stick spoons in the photocopier

And leave my lights on in the car

Until I have

No choice

But to







At dinner you smoke up

And drink my Glenlivet

You nuzzle up in the oven

When I go to heat up dessert

And the apple pie

Tastes like you


The ice cream doesn’t even help

And you say that’s fine

Because now I’ll actually try

To write that down

And explain who you are

As if you have a name

Or a bed in my house

Or a social insurance number

That lets you make a living


Curl up time

Lights out

And hey, it’s you

Opening the door

Once again

Pulling this hair or that

Turning on the lamp

Bringing me mustard and

Summer sausage

To keep me going

With a glass of shiraz

And a puff of cigar

Any vice will do

You tell me

As long as I



As long as I



Dream hard, rage hard.

46 thoughts on “Oh It’s You

  1. Flipping muse disguised as insomnia. Sometimes I want to bake mine in a pie. If I didn’t “get” this the way I should have, tell me…

    Wonderful extended metaphor, BTW.

        1. You know I’m happy you got that, cause it is the reason why I write. Some weird beast that claws at me, like all the time, it’s pretty uncomfortable, especially when you can’t sleep. Monster/friend/addiction says it in a nutshell.

          1. Yes– “muse” is just too pretty for the thing that haunts you. Well, it might disguise itself as a beautiful woman, but I imagine this particular woman would be more like the antiheroine in “Fatal Attaction ”

            1. Yeah. Some shapeshifting medusa-like figure whose snakes bite my ass while I’m driving my car, and who never buys me a drink or has anything good to say to me in a movie theatre, plus the sex is horrible. I have many names for this lady, and they are all unflattering. I’d drop an anvil on her if only she would stand still.

              1. Yes. I got that from the work… She’s a total bitch. Even if she stood still, she’d just phase to mist and the anvil would go right through her.

  2. Trent,
    Susan sent me over to read about your muse. Mine whispers “don’t do back to sleep” at four in the morning just loud enough so I can’t. It runs knives of sadness through me on a brilliant afternoons. It casts visions across my private movie screen and stitches my mental eyelids open. I love to write.It feels so good… as long as I obey.:-0

    1. Hi Alice – nice to meet you. Yes, we all gotta obey I guess. So are you a doc? I’m privy to a doc on WordPress who is quite mad. I hope that you are similarly bent – seems like it so far.

  3. OK, I am impressed with this!
    This is a demon,unworthy of being a tender muse.
    I have this company often and can relate.
    Perhaps that explains words knocking on brain at 3am,use me,you’re not doing anything anyway

  4. mine scrapes the lilac tree against my bedroom walls, dances in monotony a riverdance of raindrops echoing on the roof, clings repeatedly when the wind disturbs his flag, and causes hot flashes until I’m forced to get out of bed to keep from melting. lol then it keeps me up until the next afternoon, when I finally get it all puked up and out of my system. aint writing grand? oh, and yes, mine pretends to be my bladder quite often! douchebag!

  5. Would it sound odd telling this one spoke to me in very different voices? Not that I am actually worried about it sounding odd… But yes, any thoughts of peacefulness disappeared with your words. Strangely haunting.

Leave a Reply

Back To Top
%d bloggers like this: