i’m on the edge and feel like everything’s too much, Eric Turner

my mug has been empty like a panhandle and i’ve been carrying it around and shaking and rattling it and showing off the empty mug and everyone throws in pennies and dimes and little notes and the rattling got louder and more desperate each day and each night i would pour the mug out but there was no space for the mug in the cupboard and no water from the faucet so i held the mug for myself, shook it and rattled it and amused myself, but i never filled the mug and so i grew thirsty thirsty thirsty and so i drank water from the tap back home and coffee from the shops around town and pomegranate juice from the pitcher in his incense smoked apartment and i licked my dry lips with my dry tongue and took the mug back to something like a home but with no space and no water for me and all anyone said was good show, good show, and then we bought new cupboards and new glasses and a new faucet and i turned it on and i found there was water and i found there was heat and i brought tea and i steeped it with your diffuser, a metal one, clanky, and i poured the tea and i drank it and i poured more and drank more and i drank it all alone and my mug was full and full and full so i had to keep drinking, to make up for lost time, to change the color of my piss, so my lips could be wet again even though you’ve only had them dry and i think you will like them wet but i have to fill the mug again, empty again, have to splish it and splash it instead of shaking it all of the time and i promise to think of you with clanking but i can’t offer the tea yet, not until my lips are wet, so you can try it.