I no longer know
whether to drown myself
in heartbreak
in cheap liquor
or in the bath tub.

I pour myself
another 3 fingers of whiskey;
just to **** the thin papery feeling.

The smell of *** lingers
on my damp skin
as I sit silently on the porch,
watching as the ashes of the
burning cigarette in my hand
disappear into the wind.

I take another drag,
the smoke veiling
my face as I exhale.

I discard the spent Marlboro
and continue to stare into
the indecipherable blackness.

It is during times like this
I become inherently aware
of how alone I really am.