4:37 am

fighting my way out of sweat soaked sheets,
punching to the beat of my upstairs-neighbors washer.
it's 4:37 am,
the drugs i took have turned me into a fetus.
my nose is itching.
the war-drums upstairs are beating at 1000 RPM's
beating beating beating my brain
into pulp.
i fuckin hate everyone, i think. but
i must have said it out loud,
cause there is a girl in my bed,
and she asks me if i think that's fair.
"is what fair?", i ask.
"is that fair to everyone," she asks, "that you hate them?"
"it might not be fair", i admit, "but at least it's unfair to everyone."
she doesn't notice that i'm hovering three inches above my bed
the drugs i took have made me weightless,
and my nose is itching.
"can you please shut the fuck up!", i scream to the washer upstairs.
someone stomps their feet on the floor above me,
yelling something back- but i can't make it out.
now the old lady next door joins in, howling at the top of her lungs
like a wolf
hungry for some peace and quiet.
i have started a chain-reaction.
people are waking up
all over the neighborhood, yelling at each other
the sun comes up, and they all get into their cars
honking their horns, pissing sounds,
territorial.
now the whole goddamn city is awake.
and the drugs i took have turned me into a sponge
sucking up the noise, and my nose is itching.
for a second i am God.
i can hear everybodys pathetic petty desperate prayers at once,
and i hate them all.
the girl gets out of my bed
"get some sleep", she says
"who are you?", i ask, but she's gone,
and i scratch my nose.
the drugs i took have turned me into a God,
a God that has no control.