all alone in a motel room in fucking Roseville, CA

and I’m feeling it, again…

switching channels

like

switching thoughts and

falling perilously close to

jagged memories that just

scar me

over and

over

again.

 

I’m wondering what tonight

might be like

in another script altogether

another scene where

there are new lines and

a different girl

and someone who knows

what the fuck they are doing

blocking my movement,

mapping it out on stage…

stand here,

cross there…

so I know when to move from a to b

and

don’t have to spend the next 8 months

second guessing why I’m

sleeping in the

wrong bed.

 

Ad libbing seems

almost cool

when I see

a pro doing it-

when it’s done well-

but when I’m in the midst of

blowing up a scene

I quickly realise

that this shit isn’t getting renewed

and just how many people

I’m putting out of a job

if their roles in this part of my story

depend on my performance,

or that I deliver

the right line

to the right girl

at the right time.

 

Mostly I’m spouting

free verse

about things I know little

to zilch

about

but playing it cool and

pretending

“I got this”-

if anyone would just stop

and think back to season two, episode 10

they’d figure out that this won’t end well

and I’m destined for

a series ending cliff hanger

that I still haven’t devised a plan

to write myself out of.