bed made

I yell and tell my empty bottles to go to hell-

I ignore the smell.

I am ignoring the smell (breathing through
my mouth).

The smell which resembles rotten broccoli
but which simply cannot be rotten broccoli.

I want to yell. I wish to scream.

I am on my knees. I beg and I plead.

I tell the empties to go to hell
times three!

This is the biggest tiny game of kiss and tell
we have yet played.

Your face is a bed made.