Sometime, Some Saturday

I wonder how many times I cussed today as
I debate over whether or not to call you
in this fragile condition of anger
that stays here at home.

This has been the most wasted day of my life.

I have not laughed.
I have barely eaten
because I don't feel I deserve it.

If they would go should you come over?
Should I be sad, guilty, miserable?

I can't decide if it is a blessing or a curse.

I lay detached for hours on my pillow
and stare at the blurry wall
too exhausted to focus.

I'm so tired of fighting.

(Dad let's not argue over who had the hardest day we're both working now let's call it a truce)

I debate over whether or not to call you.
This has been the most wasted day of my life.