saturday night (is the loneliest night of the week)

i am here.
the candles are burning.
i am trying not to get sentimental on this journey.
the blades are dusty, rusting and rotting, and i'm sighing and waiting and wishing and hoping.
and you're not here.
and i'm alone.
and the cat is purring to go outside.
the water runs and puts out my fire.
the ring shines and makes me believe.
it's nice work if you can get it.
the f key sticks and i pound away.
f and f and f and f.
i prayed you would win, but you lost and i won.
i tried to fight it.
i tried to give in.
i sit here raising myself off the seat, sitting and sinking back down again.
the door is locked, turned by your key.
i won't open it; it's so cold outside.
the water runs and bathes what i cannot clean myself.
it's just one of those things.
saturday night is the loneliest night of the week.