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Thoughts At the Back of a Refrigerator

Why is it that

late at night

so late even the new day has not awaken,

I lay there eyes open

feeling empty and lonely and sad,

a half empty glass of spoiled milk.

That carton of milk at the grocery store

No one ever picks up

as its too cold

and too far away

all the way in the back on the refrigerator.


I have friends,


A family that cares,


A soft bed 

and a roof over my head.

I should feel content but why am I




Like that hollow in my chest expands

to a deep dark cavern

where bats flutter at the ceiling

and mold covers the corners.


I used to go to church

only 'cause my mother made me

it was too long

too boring

a waste of a perfectly good Sunday,

I claimed.

But now, at 3 am

I get it.

I really do.

It's to fill up that cavern in my chest

with something bigger

and greater

than anything I could put.


Regardless, not much has changed.

I still live this life

feeling empty inside.

But now

when I go to the grocery store

I always reach

for that carton of milk

in the very back.


Every day

holds something new.

And who knows

Maybe someone

like me

a little crazy

in the head

will pull me out

of that cavern in my chest,

of the back on the refridgerator.

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