The Lonely Disease
pasted on park bench, nursed forty between legs,dope cleverly stashed in White Castle bag in the trash;
your dark desperate eyes dawning disappointment
uttering the imminent words I'm leaving you.
staging shock I search for an arrogant response
as wit dries I begin soaking in self pity.
lowering self esteem, breaking bravado;
awakening solitude from which anger grew.
you played patience while I vomit insecurities
leaving me in the haze of the New York skyline's
perpetual erections that wait on Islam;
lager satisfaction dulls the errant pain.
vague convictions clench the lonely disease
of salvation's distilled spirit; substance slave
surrenders, grandiose dreams gone for good.
isolation clings to intoxication in vain.
Poetry by aliceramone
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Written on 2007-03-22 at 03:05
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