A smile crawls deliciously
across my face
as the notes pour
into the headphones,
and the memories
sink their caustic teeth
into the parts of me
I’ve forgotten as days,
months, years
wriggled past
and eventually
became a faint
emotion,
softly pulsing in the back
of my mind.
These are the nights
I half convince myself
I’ve been drinking for hours,
but I haven’t touched
a glass
in weeks.
The nights I wish
I could fall asleep
and stop emotionally straining
myself,
but I can’t.
These are the nights
all these feelings
come pouring out of
my eyes,
ears,
mouth,
fingers,
toes,
heart,
mind,
soul.
And there’s nothing I can do
to control this.
Maybe a drink could
temporarily numb,
but it wouldn’t fix anything.
Nothing could fix anything.
Wow, what an ambiguous statement.
Nothing could fix anything.
Nothing could fix anything.
But, I can think of a few things
that could potentially
open my eyes.
And those things
are so unavailable,
I want to cry.
Maybe I will.
It’s probable that I won’t.
But then again,
my emotions have no probability.
They just are.
There’s no prediction,
no guessing how they will turn
out today,
they just are.
