someone find a bottle opener
you're sober again and all this bleeding
is beginning to burn.
you take such chaotic steps to prove yourself
nevermind there's noone around to prove
yourself to.
(i guess this will just have to do)
and for who?

the ones in the corner speaking in hushed tones
laughing over others' dilemmas and mixed drinks
with a hint of this and a little that and an olive thrown
in all for good measure.

(nevermind the dying, was never any good at that,
at this...)

our eyes will all light up in an hours time with good company
riding in our hands like stilled horses waiting for us to
giddy-up, consume their fire that soaks our throats
and gathers at the pit of our bellies like some secret
gathering of witches at midnight.

(but it's half past midnight now, isn't it and still we
somehow make sense...somehow...)

-something is missing here..right here..that could possibly
tie this all together like fingers interlaced -
and yet still we search for more, for something else
something
missing
...right here...

this doesn't fit and you never will.
and you're sober again and all this bleeding
is beginning to somehow make sense...somehow...

12/18/2002

Author's Note: -too many thoughts at once and my words have failed me-

Posted on 12/19/2002
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