I'm still here
she said to me, over the phoneshe wanted to see other peoplei thought, "well then, look around, they're everywhere"said that she was confused...i thought, "darling, join the club"24 years old, mid-life crisisnowadays hits you when you're youngi hung up, she called back, i hung up againthe process had already startedat least it happened quicki swear, i died inside that nightmy friend, he calledi didn't mention a thingthe last thing he said was, "be sound"sound...i contemplated an awful thing, i hate to admiti just thought those would be such appropriate last wordsbut i'm still hereand smallso small.. how could this struggle seem so big?so big...while the palms in the breeze still blow greenand the waves in the sea still absolute bluebut the horrorevery single thing i see is a reminder of hernever thought i'd curse the day i met herand since she's gone and wouldn't hearwho would care? what good would that do?but i'm still hereso i imagine in a month...or 12i'l be somewhere having a drinklaughing at a stupid jokeor just another stupid thingand i can see myself stopping shortdrifting out of the presentsucked by the undertow and pulled out deepand there i am, standingwet grass and white headstones all in rowsand in the distance there's one, off on its ownso i stop, kneelmy new home...and i picture a sober awakening, a re-entry into this little bar scenesip my drink til the ice hits my liporder another roundand that's it for nowsorrynever been too good at happy endings...