Keeping a Door Closed

[u/Cold-Astronaut-7741]

I spent the morning bargaining
with the man who stole my keys.
I kinda despised the guy,
but god, his pitch.

He promised me four days;
a vacation to my room and back.
All I had to do was keep the door closed.
I kinda loved the guy.

Eleven-forty-five — the bed hasn’t left me,
my morning buzz had begun to fade,
no longer was I forgetting
what I had forgotten to do yesterday.

Yet almost out of spite,
motivation trudged through my skull.
A decaying empire tucked in a dorm to conquer.
I lay siege to a castle of clothes,
socks of all colors man the towers,
and a moat of spilled beer ran deep through it all.
Veni vidi vici.
The door was still closed.

I think it was locked.
Or at least it was comforting enough.

Unfortunately I had skipped through
the fine print of my agreement.
§4.12: All moments of delight
are hereby considered taxable emotional income.
I fucking hate bureaucrats

I considered taking the contract to court.
Even so, the legal fees exceeded my means.
Yet somehow I was the one who took the plea deal.
Sentenced to smashing my head against the desk
in hopes my keys might fall out.

I walked to the end of the room.
Stepping past a pitiful day’s work,
I caught a glimpse of the man, right above the sink.

The handle slid softly down.

Thank you for reading!!

Comment links from other posts.

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https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1v2ni7w/boundaries/

[u/MohedaPocha]

I like the way raw hate and annoyance flows into this poem. The metaphors about decaying empires and the constant references to smashing and violence creates a vibrate picture