A broken down,
soft-spoken bird -
never a smile.
Never a word.
***** to the wall
then a sudden reverse,
not near enough change
left in the purse.
Stuck on that
stage in life
where everything's cursed,
but still hoping for good
while expecting the worst.

His mind is brittle,
his heart is in shreds,
not a sliver of solace
in bottles or beds.
After each night
he wakes up, he dreads
that he didn't die
in his sleep instead.
Cuts himself
deeply, but
the wounds have never bled;
all the damage he deals
is to his own head.

slowly
slowly are the days
          marked
one
   and one
      and one
so slowly and with no more fanfare.

     a dream
rogue and rotten
          lodged
and immovable.

the days bleed
     one into the next
          and on
               until time is not.
    
     unruly
     unworthy beginnings
   painted a needed
wanted
          unreal ending.

bottled
blasphemous the nights

where hands held
     hair and hips.

the loss
    both
grievous and expected.

Belated but sincere,
   that's me to a T -
almost enough,
   but it was too late,
   just another dose of slightly less
   than effective misery.
Your eyes and your ears
   see and hear differently
   than most of the others who
   have spent time with me.
Don't you have anything
   better to do
   than hold on to a hopeless man
   who's in love with you?

I'm tired.
It's been a long day,
   a long year,
   a long life,
and I'm tired.
The babies cry,
and they're irrational,
so I can provide no comfort.
It hurts when they cry and I can't help.
I never feel like I can help.
I can't sleep, either, but that's not on them.
No, honestly, I could sleep.
I love to sleep.
I'm more concerned, though,
with
with


I don't know where my time goes,
or why I hate all my time.

carry me home, just once more.
tomorrow i'll be better, okay?
tomorrow i'll stop
and i won't need your help,
but tonight, i can barely --
well, i can't, okay? i can't walk,
i can't even think,
but i'm sorry for this.
i'm sorry for you.
to you, i mean.
i'm embarrassing you, aren't i?
am i talking too loud again?
don't wake people up. they don't like that,
i remember that much.
can you tell me a song?
sing me one, i mean.
or a story.
no, tell me a story, will you?
you tell great stories.
how about that one where the guy
who hates himself finally figures out that
the reason he hates himself is because . . .
crap, what was the reason?
oh, well.
never mind.
the why isn't the important part.
hey, why aren't the whys important?
where are my keys?
can you open the door?
my sock is wrinkled in my shoe.
i'm a mess, but i'll be better tomorrow.
after sleep. after tonight, okay?
i just need sleep. a lot of it.
maybe i can --
hey, can you hand me that bottle of aspirin?
it's in the drawer. that one.
other bottle of aspirin, it's stronger.
i'm not though, huh?
strong, i mean.
it's just for . . . it's so i don't hangover.
get one, i mean. thanks.
only, like, twelve. that's all that was in there.
i'll be okay. tomorrow.
no more help. no more . . .
okay, it wasn't aspirin, but
i'm tired is all. is a little fuzzed.
am, i mean.
you can go.
don't freak out. just bed, okay? i'm going --
hey, thanks for everything.
you know, i always --
no, i'll tell you tomorrow,
when i'm over.
there's already a note.
it's mail.
it's a letter in your mail, i mean.
those'll be the last words,
not these, so don't remember these, okay?
i fell tired.
feel, i mean.
but i'm sorry. i am sorry.
i can't -- don't forget the letter, okay?
it should get you soon.
to you, i mean.
i'm, um, hey, i think that's it.
that's all i can do, i'm going.