Tonight is sadness,
and I am a ghost by my own choosing
I am hardly here, like smoke in the wind
I am carried beyond my means.

I have tried to be alone three different times tonight
but my door's voice is too loud to let me hide.

Visitors.

Intruders.

After the last one left I swallowed what was left of my Jack
and let it eat me from inside.
Its considerable warmth spread through my throat,
burning like a thousand still born smiles
that died before my lips.

It is later.
I sit watching traffic,
letting the rain wash me of my sins and my sadness.
I am baptized daily here.
by these rain drops that hide my tears and clean me of my memories.

It is cold.
I am wet.
my sweater is a sponge tonight.
I will return, but I will not play with them.
They are too hot and lively for my lazy languid tongue.

Another shot, another shot, a cigar and maybe some wine.
But tonight,
this lonely, wet, ghost filled night
with all its sadness and all its tears
is mine.

AcB 10.7.00