You were always a fan of comedy
Right from the day I first met you
We were lost to the giggles
Howling and snorting
We made fools of ourselves, and happily so
I'd never laughed so long in my life
Before you came along.
And you showed me the videos of your favourite comedian:
Eddie Izzard
And the lego dramatics
And we cried and coughed and spluttered
Over cheap red wine
And oven pizza.
Your laughter was contagious
It brightened up my days
But as the nights grew longer
And the light left quicker
You left too.
I think you got lost along the way
And you found yourself at a service station.
You parked yourself at the bar
And ordered yourself a pint

And then another one.

You told any stranger you could
About who it was you used to be
So free
So spirited
As you watched yourself turn mean
And your sweetest of souls fermented in that barley swill
And then you ordered another pint
And another one still.

You know, I haven't seen you since,

And Eddie Izzard's lego figures
Lie lifeless in a box somewhere
Collecting dust in a dark corner.
You've brushed them to one side
Like those little voices which speak to you
Directly from the cavity in your chest
Just near your left lung.

You order one more pint.

Only while Izzard's personality and charm
Are what overtook those little blocks of plastic
And had us howling
Your own ego threw those small voices aside
Locking them in a jewellery box
And hiding the keys
You never knew I'd find them.

So you draw back
You closed your eyes to the world around you
Where the people sing and dance
While you nurse a fast leaking bottle
The drink doesn't drown out the whispers that follow you
It just drowns your mind enough
To numb you from the pain.

And it's only when you've ****** away your last three quid
Shat and drank and then some
That you finally open your eyes again
Only to realise
That you don't belong here
That you weren't made for this life
In this grim, empty service station bar
Stuck alone in the middle of nowhere
Where years spin by like days
And minutes last for centuries
Where your only escape
From the impending sense of doom
you can't seem to shake
Is down the eye of a glass needle
Or reflected in the brown swill
Left in the bottom of a glass.

And Eddie Izzard is still up on stage
Velvet dress and rouged lips
And the roar of the audience
Mimics the waves that crash down in your brain
After the floodgates broke down
Only this time,
No one's sending any rescue teams.