He carried himself well, soft spoken but heard, easy on the eyes with a firm handshake, his stride and confidence command attention, a man of his word, well dressed as he drowns himself in a bottle behind closed doors yet another night , another spirit another memory of a life lost, in a world that has been cold for way too long, where does he go from here?
Such a Nice Girl!
He thought she was cute. And his mom liked her... so? Why not ask her out?
She thought he was cute, so she asked around for his name. Then she used Linked-In to find out where he worked. Then she tricked the receptionist out of his address. She followed him from that address to the gym, which she immediately joined and eaves-dropped from the machine across from his until she got his sister’s name, whom she sought out and befriended. From the sister she got their mother’s workplace, where she made an appointment to get her hair done.
Because if his mom likes her, then she must be all right!
Right?
Right???
No Longer Human
Even the lightest interactions are heavy
Just a smile carries the weight
Was there ever a time of black and white
When being a good person wasnt up for debate
I act a clown because its easy
For me and they all seem to enjoy
I fear them more with every laugh
Wind me up like a child's toy
Im here for others comfort
But through their ease I feel it too man
I just wish we were the same species
When did I become no longer human
I act, perform and entertain
Its easier than telling them all
About what I am and how long I've been
Running on instinct, the show must go on
Its a three ring circus in my living room
Im bouncing a ball on my nose and I'm jumping through hoops
I give them all of what they want
Because if I dont know who I am then I've got nothing to lose
Everybody here likes a me that doesnt exist
A ghost of a personality, a human spirit if you will
I float along everybody's lives
Like a ship thats lost its sail
I've thrown my anchor overboard
But the chain wasnt attached
When I lied for the first time
There was no looking back
The alcohol smoothed the mechanism
Slowed the assembly of gears
It quickly became my medicine
And I took that vitamin every morning for years
I draw my cartoons
Sometimes meaningful but mostly they're not
If anybody ever looked deeper
They probably could've connected the dots
There comes a sweet solace
Right before I close my eyes at night
Where I ask myself is all of this
Mine or someone elses life
Last Call
Every small town has a dive bar where the drinks come cheap and the air tastes of regret. This was one of them. The first thing people noticed walking into the cramped space with its darkened windows was the stickiness. The floors, the cigarette-laced air, even its reputation seemed to cling to you. Neon signs gently lit the faces of a handful of usual suspects trying to escape their struggles for a moment. The jukebox filled the space with old songs of heartbreak.
But tonight would be different. At precisely 10:00 p.m., the door creaked open and the soft blue-lit faces of the remaining few turned as She walked in.
They didn’t know her name. They never would. But they’d remember Her... And so would He.
Her auburn hair curled loosely around delicate shoulders, framed by a light blue dress that hugged Her waist and fell just below Her knees. She was too polished for this place, too clean.
She quietly took the end seat at the bar.
He smiled. “Can I help you?” He asked, drying His hands after washing the last of the glassware.
“Vodka soda, please,” She said softly, Her green eyes scanning the room like She expected someone.
“Coming right up,” He said, already watching Her a bit too closely. “Want me to leave it open?”
“For now,” She replied, Her gaze settling back on the door She had just walked through.
He poured the drink stronger than most would. Then came the questions. Where was She from? What did She do? The usual small talk, served with confidence and charm.
She answered coyly, giving just enough to keep the conversation alive, but maintaining an air of mystery.
An hour passed. By now, He was no longer asking if She wanted another. He just poured as soon as Her glass dropped below a quarter full.
Finally, He asked the question burning in everyone’s mind.
“So what brings you in tonight? Were you meeting someone?”
Her polite smile faded. “I was supposed to be meeting someone. Blind date. My sister set it up. I honestly didn’t want to come, but she insisted. She’s always had terrible taste in men, so I can’t say I’m surprised he didn’t show.”
She turned slightly, Her sigh barely audible.
“Well,” He replied, “his loss is my gain. This next one’s on me.”
He slid another drink across the bar.
She smiled and thanked Him as She lifted the glass to Her lips, Her guard finally slipping just a bit.
The conversation deepened. Every joke He made drew out Her melodic laugh. He filled the air with easy charm, oozing confidence.
As the usual crowd drifted out the room grew still. By midnight, only two remained.
Him and Her.
He stretched and yawned, eyeing the clock.
“Midnight already. Cinderella better run before she turns back into a pumpkin.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You might want to brush up on your fairy tales. Cinderella didn’t turn into a pumpkin. That was the carriage.”
Her tone sharpened just a little. “Did you know that in the original version, one of the stepsisters cut off her toes to try and fit into the slipper?”
She reached into Her purse. “How about a shot for the road? Pour two. My treat.”
He smirked. “Can’t say I’m used to a girl buying me a drink. Usually it’s the other way around.”
“It’s the least I can do,” She replied coolly.
He chuckled and set two shot glasses on the bar.
“Seems you poured mine a little bigger,” She said, eyeing them. “I’ve been drinking all night. Here, trade with me. You probably need it more than I do.”
He gave a slight sigh. “Customer’s always right.”
She lifted Her glass. “To my sister. May she finally learn to have better taste in men.”
They clinked.
He drank.
She didn’t.
He offered with a grin, “Want me to walk you home? Once I lock up?”
She smiled again, slow and aloof. “Sure.”
But He didn’t make it to the till.
He stumbled, hands bracing on the bartop.
“Whoa,” He gasped.
She watched as He fell to His knees. The shot glass rolled off the edge and shattered.
“You don’t remember her, do you?” She asked, Her voice turning icy. “She was drunk. You said you’d walk her home. But you did more than that, didn't you?”
His eyes widened as She stood from Her stool and crossed behind the bar.
He tried to speak but only a rasp escaped.
She leaned down, just enough for Him to see Her eyes.
“My sister couldn’t get out of bed for months. In the end, I guess she found her escape. But I’ll always miss her.”
She didn’t blink as He let out one final, rattling breath.
She stood and sighed.
“It’s too bad she always had terrible taste in men.”
Kill
What i did not know
Is they could kill at a moments thought
On a whim
At the turn of a coin
At a perceived injustice
Kill without remorse
Who raised them
To be this way
Or were they made forged
By the world or life
What i did not know is
That they could kill at a thought
Like it was nothing
No respect for life
What i did not know