Graduation

Graduation

Passive aggressive sarcasm,

sedated;

listening to the sound

of someone else’s drum.

My head hurts in the mornings

another secret slipped out,

and I gather

broken pieces of my coffee cup,

like life 

spread across

a cold hardwood floor.

As my cat purrs in purple

standing guard

at the bedroom door.

I can feel the gravity

of the situation.

And the bitter taste

of stale air.

I’ve graduated;

putting  glass in my Chuck Taylors,

cutting the toes

I just painted pink.