Strange, vague, ceiling,
walls have ears but never boast--
a blessing they don't speak.
smiling quite contentedly,
like eating popcorn at the show.
Groping blindly, stare unkindly,
at the stranger you once knew.
Wilted rose, trail of clothes,
half-empty glasses wearing clues.
Quiet now, rise from the bed--
silence voice within your head.
Deny this part of you in you.
Fight the shame that's creeping through,
disgusting as a pile of puke.
Careful not to shake the bed
(like you could wake the living dead...)
paranoid, how your eyes dread
eyes that meet and speak the truth.
Sifting through a careless mess,
find what's yours--forget the rest.
reminders of the night before...
Reality, a crash of wave,
reveals remains of sandy grave.
Red dawn on some familiar shore,
gently now, you close the door...
Outside there's an eastern sky--
exhale and the squint of eyes.
Pardoned, but there's no relief.
No reprieve for faithless priest.
A rooster crows, depression grows,
robbed--you thought yourself the thief...
Head pounding now at a dull roar
(What hunger filled will beg for more?)
Sorrow, counting doors you've closed.
Remembering the wilted rose.
Like scabs and scars on festered sore,
are memories of nights before.