The Art of Making an Exit

I wake up to the smell of stale beer.

It’s dark, thanks to a bed sheet shielding the window.

Unfamiliar cotton scrapes my skin.

This is not my room.

 

I see you when I go to turn

And only then recall the night that led me here.

You said you loved the color of my eyes.

I think your name starts with a “J.”

 

I stumble over empty plastic cups

And tiptoe toward the door, praying that the doorknob doesn’t creak.

I’ve mastered the art of making an exit.

It was nice to meet you.

 

I won’t think of you today.

Some call it cheating to pretend it never happened -

But when you leave before he wakes

It never did. 

Reviews

[Leigh]

Great commentary style. Very accurate account of a sequence of events that happens all the time.

[KeeD]

Brilliantly written. You make me imagine waking up to an empty bed with a massive hangover wondering if ..when..and how.

[thenakedverse]

oh and trust me... at the time, thats exactly what it was. not the most proud moments of my life, but something that i feel others could relate to. you can find something beautiful even in the most unattractive situations

[Molly Garnet]

I really love this poem, it makes an accident beautiful

[not here]

Brilliant snap shot of the aftermath (that never was).

[Clayton Bardwell]

Funny. If it happened in a different zip code it doesn't count either.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

'when you leave before he wakes/ it never did"

so if we pretend it never happened, did it?

i like the imagery in this...the unfamiliar surroundings, the night before gradually coming into focus.

"unfamiliar cotton scrapes my skin"

i get abrasions from the thoughts of what i did last night---those you can't pretend away.

jacob