shut me up,
I laugh in Los Angeles
while people don't understand
what anger is.
not real anger,
just superficial
leave-me-alone-for-now kinda anger.
I feel like I'm in Brooklyn in 2012
with somewhere Suzanne next to me
and I not drunk enough to fall asleep
but not sleepy enough to get drunk.
so I just stare at the ceiling
and think of escape.