Pete Dolack

Sorry I haven't answered the phone

But I'm too busy

Wrestling my demons

And there is certainly no reason

For me to move

Since they keep finding me anyway

Get out of the apartment

My brain helpfully suggests to myself

To no avail

Black inertia surrounds me

As an extra-dimensional force keeping me in place

Movement just becomes too painful

But the apartment becomes a sinkhole

for a steady spiral of bad memories

And what-ifs

Repeating themselves as often as necessary

You know you've hit bottom

When the best idea you can come up with

Is to call an ex-girlfriend

And ask 'Hey, wanna fuck?'

Maybe inertia will have you in a tight enough grip

So you don't go there

But then you're not going anywhere

No matter how many times you've been here before