The Last Time I Seen You

More of a memory than anything else, but I like it.

The last time I saw you,

       We were both not right,

You were numb to everything

       And I was drunk and dying.

I was wearing a white shirt,

And went into the bathroom,

To comb my hair down.

       I could hear the softness in your voice

As you spoke a greeting to my brother.

Even the alcohol would not ease my nerves.

It was so long 

       Since we both had touched in youth and love.

I took a deep breath and came out,

And approached you, as you leaned on a table

That the landlord had left behind.

       Your expression showed me fear,

But you seemed happy for a brief moment.

We hugged,

       And then you were silent.

Probably due to my presence.

You cooked me meat,

And we attempted to look for teacups.

You laughed, looking at my gut,

“you’re fat!” You said.

We both laughed at that.

You claimed you did not drink anymore,

Even though I pleaded with you,

       “For old times sake.”

Before I tilted the bottle to my lips

And swallowed half of it.

       I Failed at the piano keys

When you asked to hear someone sing.

Your eyes were vacant and you were not her,

The adorable loving creature I left behind,

And still I hung my head low praying for something,

Anything to appear from the past,

And when it did not appear,

I became even drunker and the aggression tore it down.

       I put my fists up in the air

       And said, “yes, yes, yes, I’m the toughest guy in town!”

And that annoyed you, or hurt you.

       And through my blurred vision, I gave up,

And collapsed on a bed I made of dirty laundry and trash

With my head facing the door,

       As you slipped on your cheap shoes,

And slung your overnight bag over your shoulder.

       Your red short sleeve shirt and brown hair,

A blur as you closed the door behind you.

I closed my eye’s,

       Drifting away from you forever.