Night to Night Again

depression self-discovery inner turmoil truth

Night.
Drippy nose,
Drinking again that
Three day old now
Chardonnay.

Clutch.
Clutch to my
Closest confidante,
Inanimate as when I was
A babe.

Morn.
Up for the dawn
And wanting to capture
The sunrise on the SLR
But it just
Rains.
Clouds and fog
Again.

Again.

Steps-
Back into the
circle of
Indiscriminate,
Amorphous words
And stories.

The till,
The cash,
The chats of random
Insignificance and an unexpected
Pat on the back.

Noon and after.
Ibuprofen and
Chocolate keep me from
Counting out too many bills.
Jokes.
Soft rock
hits.
Can’t sleep on the ride home.


Driving.
Just dance.
Maybe,
Maybe I’m dreaming of this girl
Who won’t write more,
Won’t speak again.
Too late.
Not much time left with the
Hangers, dresses,
skirts.

Salts of the hour glass.
Slip.
Drained again and sick.
Drip.
How long will I drag
this
out?

Sleep.

A glimpse and I believe.

The reality will settle,
The drips stop,
The slipping slow,
The dreams…
The dreams are true.

But this is not close
Or new.