Written 4.11.2010 sometimes drama happens

It hurts. I hurt so deep I don’t know where
I imagine and retch
it’s not even that tragic
friends would scoff
to me and to you this is the world.

The world that has now ended,
trust lost, sanctity lost, on and on into infinity
red wine in my glass loosens my tongue and fingers
although the tongue might be metaphorical since I’m writing not speaking
oh, well. Whatever. It still hurts.

And you’re as wounded as I,
but you didn’t tell me on your own
and you would have let it slide away
and I would have never known

God, I feel like a fool.


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