i sit here,
drinking.
drinking time away.
heart breaking,
now
I smoke,
I drink,
feeling useless
and angry…
angry at myself
for nothing ive chosen to do.
a cigarette in my mouth,
scotch in one hand,
my pistol in the other.
i want to
save myself…
though its useless.
i can’t undo this
she can’t be replaced.
she hasn’t called in weeks
and i weep.
i have always hated myself,
hated myself for what i had become,
as was thinking,
the bottle slipped from my fingers
and I brought the gun to my mouth.
my trembling thumb
can barely bring the hammer back.
and then…
all that is good
begins to flow back into me.
its to late,
so great is my resolve that
i pull the trigger.
a ringing phone
meant to bring
an apology…
she’s too late.