He changed them for the world to see.
He hides what he can.
In a matter of just days, he altered their state.
He has touched all of our friends.
His absence is apparent.
His presence is a trend.
He has many acquaintances in need of a mend.
I will find you.
He says.
I am always looking.
You are always on my mind.
At the bottom of a bottle.
At the top of a high.
At the end of a line.
I just can’t, and won’t get over things until you are gone.
Excuses.
Four leaf clover kind of luck to evade the parade of flesh.
Excuses.
Without you my spirits are crushed, I am cut and dressed.
Excuses.
Swan Song.
He is hanging on forever, never saying goodbye.
We lose friends in the process, we lose sleep if we try.
Without a doubt, make a bet, he is breathing down your neck.
Then everything is over.
All is dark.
Everyone is sober, and all have read.
Beating a dead horse to death.
He is the smell on your last breath.
The End
***
The things we miss out on while sober are nothing in comparison to the things we have lost while intoxicated.
This piece is for my mother, the strongest person I know.
