Sarah Rooney Designs

I’m reading a passage of my book aloud to rooms with no ears
I’m giggling glancing shoving an empty passenger seat
I’m imagining confessions on my father’s doorstep
I’m crying that you’ve been drinking too much
I’m bargaining my trust
Bartering my faith
I’m waltzing over cold tiles to the sizzle of an empty skillet 
I’m tickling the phantoms in my bed
Tucking them behind my ear 
I’m begging your best friend
  look, he’s starting to freak me out
I’m smiling coyly across deserted tables
arranging weeds in crystal vases
I’m dreaming of double hammocks firelit
I’m yelling out my window while you’re banging on my door
go home you’re high you’re drunk you’re scaring me
I’m consulting my neighbor’s cat on the cut of my underwear
I’m drawing abstract landscapes, painting rosy portraits 
I’m searching for the comfort of a hand clutched in a fist
I’m wondering how I got here
I’m wondering how I could miss a man who doesn’t exist