A blink and a yawn
and a grandiose
stretch
and a new day
begins

Bottle on the
nightstand
a reminder
to find
another
reason

The season
of withered
preoccupation
has come
and the longing
to find freedom
pushes extinction
back into the
realm of possibility

The ability to remain
slipping through my
jaded hands
while the demands
of society ring hollow
in the gabled corners
of my vacant soul

Pain

The only friend
who does not
shun my company

Pain

The only friend
whose end would
be of consequence

Pain

The only friend
I leave behind
to mourn my
existence