the myth behind the blinding lights,
the numbing drink in constant fight,
to ground my loving, livid mind.
the friendships,
pushed and pulled around.
the nightly drives across the town.
an empty seat when i arrive,
the hopeful heart that limps to strive.
the medicine within my fridge,
to dig up reasons just to live,
a mother's death, her dying sun,
a holy presence picks which one.