LOCKPICK by B. Diehl


Brb soul searching by Mercedes Hazard
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LOCKPICK

There will come a time

when the person you think is your soulmate

will turn out to be nothing more

than a background character

in some non-fiction/no-hitter book.



You’ll grow sad, sour.

You’ll get into bar fights and lose.

You’ll hate-fuck strangers.

You’ll hate-fuck yourself.



You’ll get drunk at Hooters and hit on the waitresses.

They’ll all get pissed and the manager will kick you out.

Then you’ll puke out your dinner right there in the street ––

maybe even puke up a few sad poems.



You’ll go home. You’ll strip off your clothes, get into bed.

You’ll read Person by Sam Pink and identify with the narrator.

You’ll start making your way

through all 379 movies in your Netflix instant queue.



You’ll think of your gone-away lover.

You’ll want to pull a stocking over your head

and break into her mind with a lockpick,

just to see if she misses you at all.



But don’t waste your time.



Because she doesn’t.

She doesn’t miss you.

She doesn’t miss you,



but don’t waste your time



rotting.



Take the lockpick and smash up your bathroom mirror.

Take a plunger to your shit-clogged mind.

Listen to the song of your alcohol

as you puke it into the toilet

with another sad poem.



B. Diehl

B. Diehl is a poet, quasi-recluse, and cat enthusiast from Phillipsburg, NJ. He is the co-author of the poetry chapbook Temporary Obscurity (Indigent Press, 2015) and author of the full-length poetry collection Zeller’s Alley (White Gorilla Press, 2016). His poetry has been featured in Hobart, FLAPPERHOUSE, Straight Forward Poetry, Poydras Review, Foliate Oak Literary Magazine, Torrid Literature Journal, Lehigh Valley Vanguard, Five 2 One Magazine, and more. When he is not writing, you can usually find him at home, hanging out with his cats and/or feeding his social media addiction. He still lives with his parents. You can find him on the web at www.mynameisb.co.