A stale smoke ring

hung like a halo

upon the patron

lingering at the bar.



She shutters a stare

while her demons sing

in soft screams that tear

and prickle bad memories

until they bleed,



They soak the timeless terrain

before being suckled by the drain.



And left without herself,

bare and alone,

she finally hears a voice say:

"It's Time to go home."

04/06/2011