Nov 102009

The drought arrived
when I heard the last sound of your fading footsteps
as I licked the last drop of alcohol on my cracked lips.
The dry emptiness of your leaving
left me with withered balloons,
glitter and confetti on the floor,
empty shot glasses,
empty table,
your vacant chair,
while I alone sit on mine,
with the party hat still on my crown.

I drink no more. I drink no more.
For the alcohol that once caused my heart to party
is now dried up.

(Written at 2:12 A.M., with sobriety reigning supreme. For Anoy, my CBF.)

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