two months gone

i hate the night
the loneliness of the shared bed
finally alone with thoughts that were numbed
by tv, radio, internet, spreadsheets, everything
i fear the night
to pass out alcohol fueled only delays griefs reaper style stalk
it waits until early morn
and awakens me with wet cheeks
chest bursting with a raw animal squeal
barely subdued
i loathe the night
but i know these feelings will pass
and i fear that more
for then I'll know he's truly gone

No comments:

Post a Comment