Late Night Pain

The nicotine stained walls

Bear witness

But no one else.

The windows covered with sheer,

Silky curtains                   

Not intended

For the rough skin I wear

They soak in the yellow

Of the cigarette burning

In this ashtray by my elbow

Ashes drift carelessly

As I flick them mindlessly

Swimming in the words of a song

That says all that I can’t

My pills nearby

I hold a beer – it’s my third

I know it’s wrong

It’s also reactive.

It’s like a pitchfork

Jamming into me

I don’t bleed, no….

I simply compound this pain

That I feel entitled to.

With each beer,

That entitlement strengthens

Eventually the beer and the song

They’re not enough.

The smoke goes out.

It’s just me and the dark

And the lonely

And the entitlement

And a razor blade.