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[Zen]

These ain't words you're reading. This is a terminal illness.
Misery needs company, and I'm lurking within it.
Hate all company. I burned all the bridges.
Walked a sociopath with the thirst of a sinner.
Watched my life slip away without knowing I did it.
Let pride get in the away of my emotional commitments.
Now I'm left with a wine tip in the tray, soda and bourbon for dinner.
Sigh, and cut the chase. Up the dosage to feel it.
Flipped my mattress over. Now there's no more indentions.
Now look the mattress over.
You'd never know she existed.

I miss her company. I miss those moments in the kitchen,
talking over dinner. The food always got cold before we finished.
Make love on the counter. Put a hold on them dishes.
But that love devoured my soul. I became emotional.

A cynic.


I pushed her away. Asked only for distance.
"Have it your way."
Her tone was different.
She packed her things, and hit the road in her Civic.
I replay those moments over hoping to forget it,
til that day I look the house over,
and don't know anyone's missing...