Grimacing,
I woke to an overbearing brightness;
Not enough sleep again.
I thought about you and wished the light would retreat.
Wistful reminders of waking too early under your arm,
my head pulsating from lack of sleep--
I lay down and question my self worth.
Habitual.

I silently walk through a house that is not my own,
thick oak floors giving away my attempted discretion.
I move to a deck soaked in sunlight
tucking myself into a corner with a smoke.
My only crutch left.
I relive my last day with you.

"Where've you been?" 'Busy.'
"What are your plans?" Silence.
The corner of any room is where to find me.
Preferential.
Isolated and alone, until someone sees you.
One foot in, one foot out.
One hand reaching, one hand releasing.
My shortcomings help and hinder.

Everyone smiles at you in New Orleans.