You got me so drunk
I forgot what a hangover was.
Twisted lies,
and the devils eyes.
In between the happiness,
is what I call hate.
Unlike what you might think,
it's what made me want you
in the first place.
I crave a drop of you and your face
now and then
when I'm not really thirsty.
I search for mercy
wrapping myself in the sky,
going to bed,
planning what I might do
when you let me drink again
the next time I see you.

Who am I?
"How silly,"
the pond replies,
"Seems your eyes'd
see through your disguises
a sight better than mine."

But when I reach into the deep,
distorted ripples lull to sleep
the me I'd need
to really make
these murky waters shine.

"Then come inside,
the water's fine,
or at least
it's all you've got to drink."
But if I submerge,
Will I ever emerge?
Or drown myself
with liquid think?

What will I find
but fishing line
cast from some other
fisherman's rod?

Is anything mine,
swimming behind
the genes of history?
Perhaps I'll try...
But I may die.
"Oh, what a mystery........."

For who am I
to have this choice?
Just some noise,
a soulless voice
dawdling in the shallows.
"But would you become
A forgotten old crumb,
A bundle of bone and tallows?"

No, I'd wish not,
but what've I got?
This pond's no ocean,
that's sure.
"So return one day
when you've steeled your faith
or maybe obtained
a magic lure."

I recall now the reason
I love winter's season,
alone on my land dwelling
limbo.
While frozen you are
reflecting the stars
over schools of mindless
minnow.

it is not enough to love,
it is never enough. you must sew your fingers shut
like treasure.
mold into paper, heart like memory foam.
you must lock
the doors and change the keys, even if they don't visit. make your first drink in this palace a delight,
mount a bottle to the ceiling - decorate
with pale pink everything.
build a fist fit for windowpanes
and break no glass.
remember that a laughing bird will never fly at night, cranberries won't grow on trees and
his blood cannot stain your teeth.
young girl your are so lucky to sleep,
so lucky to dream and so lucky to love.
but it is not enough to love.
one must also learn to be.

across the bar,...

i catch a glimpse of a girl with a scorned heart
her long dark hair
one side tucked behind her ear
and the other dangled in her face to hide her faults from the world
she stares at her drink,
twiddling with the straw on the tip of her finger
as her thoughts linger
she came to escape
this is a melody of a broken heart

a few shots later, the whole bottle down
blurry vision as she searches the crowd
warm tears fall down her face
as she reminisces a familiar place
that no longer exists
in the memory of her scorned heart


its almost 2 , time for close
but she realizes she has nowhere to go
these past few weeks this bar has been her one and only home
she's so alone ,
one more drink before she picks up the phone
and calls a cab back to reality

this is her melody of a broken heart

Wait
These aren’t my hands
These can’t be my hands
What are they doing?
No!
Stop!
Cry!
Repeat!
I’m ok!
I didn’t do it
He didn’t do it
Who listens?
It glistens
The pearl of sin
Nobody wins

Wait
Those aren’t my eyes
They can’t be my eyes
The horrors they’ve seen
Never gazed on by me
Surely not
Look away
No!
Stop!
Cry!
Repeat!
I’m ok!
I didn’t see it
He didn’t see it
Who scoffs?
It stops
Time itself
Puts lies on the shelf

Crash!
Who’s there?
With torn hands
And vile eyes
A terrible stare

     Drink
What?
     Drink.
No
     Drink.
Please
     Drink.
It’s poison
     Drink.
I’ll die
     Drink.
Why do you want me to die?
     Drink!
I want to live
     Drink!
     DRINK!

     Drink from the broken cup
     Filled with lies I spew while you sup
     Now you know the cruel tale I spin
My love, I hurt
     Such a cruel
     Cruel
     Whim

Drunk on the orange light of dusk.
High on drink in a thick glass.
Cocooned in cigar smoke that hovers,
it carries the scent of a sweet menace.
The best part is knowing your ***** hang
out of sweaty boxers on the back stoop
while the neighbor lady stares
out the window, ashamed
of the visual **** of her orderly life.
At that moment, you realize, that's it baby.
The concert of life has reached its crescendo.
A spontaneous smile begins to form,
as you also begin to understand,
that's all you ever wanted
in the first place.

-Ron Gavalik