Water Bottle

It's a summer night Fan whirring rhythmically Neighbors being drunk Loud There's really no escaping the sound Of an apartment As it approaches midnight The sound of rolling bedsheets Or music turned up too loud My brow thick with sweat Eyes laced with migraine pain The swish of branches by my window It's all a part of the scene Of an apartment at midnight Where I sit and try to be content With an empty watter bottle That should be filled