The Day After The Apocalypse


The day after
the apocalypse,
I’ll secretly be happy
because I won’t have to
go to work anymore;

I’ll wonder which
celebrities survived
and if they are able
to snap from their
survival bunkers;

I’ll have a grin
on my face when
I stare down at
my smartphone
and it reads...

NO SERVICE.

I’ll get mad because
I didn’t go to the
grocery store the day
before or wonder why
I didn’t put five dollars
more on pump seven.

I’ll be worried about
family and friends
but hope they can feel
my telepathic messages
to get out of the city
and to the boats
like we planned.

I’ll daydream
about meeting a
Michonne or Sasha
and wonder if my
hair will be as perfect
as the apocalypse
survivors on tv and
in movies.

I’ll probably go commando
because doing laundry
won’t be high on my
survival list;

I’ll think about all the moments
I wasted and all the people I
never told I loved;

I’ll fight hard
not to let my mind
become a grave.

I’ll paint my skin with
all the autumns, sunrises
and sunsets I’ve ever
witnessed, open my
front door and let the
chaos teach me how
to breathe.


© 2017 abruvanamedsly




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