Tales from the Bartender

The Loneliest Day

The clock winds down to the ever-open abyss,
The silent revelries within my mind echo throughout the room,
I love her and yet she is with another, tonight,

I lie on my bed staring at the ceiling,
My mind racing into oblivion,
The stench of gin and oranges fill the air,

I’m in an alcohol-induced coma from the heartache,
In this catatonic state I find myself plagued with questions,
Is she dancing with him? Is he making her laugh as I once did?

The questions feed on my mind as well as well as my flesh,
Atrophy slowly creeps upon my limbs, destroying them,
I am dead, but I still long for her presence,

The bell tolls that another hour has gone by,
Like the others before it, I have spent it remembering her,
Her with her skin of porcelain and lips red as wine,

The night grows deeper and your vision slowly fades,
My memories of you seem distant and blurred,
With each instance I try to think of you, I find myself forgetting,

Does this mean I am over her and I can finally move on?
Does this mean I am no longer her slave?
Or does it mean she will haunt my dreams for all eternity,

The dawn beckons and I find myself stirring,
I rise from my undead state and welcome the horizon,
I have lived a day without her and now she is truly gone,

posted by Ben Bulac @ 5:21 AM