I cannot pay bills with exposure.
I am overly-exposed, as is.
Excuses are meaningless words,
Wasted breath with barbed connotations.
Forgetfulness is often the reason.
Did you forget I need to eat?
The only consistency I get from you is to be rewarded
When you see fit. Or if you remember.
I am not worth the money, it seems. It feels.
Life took away my killer instinct long ago,
“I’m too nice” for the biz, I hear 3 months on,
When sending an email asking for what’s mine.
I sit late at night. Reading old emails.
An inbox lies static. Anticipation and hope.
Waiting for your crumbs,
To arrive then, 5 months later,
You remind me the work is great.
And my ego thanks you.
But I spend my days studying numbers now — instead of words,
Wondering how much longer can this go on?
I don’t need your excuses.
They won’t help me build my dreams.
I have but one simple solution.
Just pay me.