Drink To That

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
"Friends Don't Let Friends Drink And Drive.

Backstabbing Ex-Wives Make It Impossible Not To Be An Alcoholic."

Submitted: January 12, 2012

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Submitted: January 12, 2012



A snowy eve
Filled with quiet despair,
And frozen crystals caught
In too-bright headlights.

A somber sigh
Echoing about in an empty cab,
Nothing but the diesel engine
To give a lonely man
Some unrealistic company.

The arguments from the past
Surface in his mind, like flashes,
Hitting him like bullets
And making him want to die.
So he nurses his drink one last time.

The neck of the bottle clinks
Against his teeth as bittersweet
Tears and alcohol run down his face;
His is reminded of an awkward,
Eager and sloppy first kiss.

"Everything gets better with experience,"
She had constantly reassured him.
A throaty whisper of wasted promises,
A soft hand carding through his hair,
The patient smile taunting him---
All in the rear view mirror.

Anger and depression sinking in his bones,
Just like the photograph in his wallet
Of them, washed out in sepia tones.

A subconscious movement,
A pressure on the gas,
A jump from twenty-five to sixty
And an empty, careless laugh.
This was it; this man's end...

In a separate vehicle,
A separate life,
Coming around the same bend,
Opposite directions on the road---
But still intertwined.

Here's a man with his life in order,
A family to come home to,
And a reason to smile,
But all that is going to be ruined
In just a little while...

He's drawn to the light
like a moth to a flame,
Two white-gold orbs
That will lead him home again.
And a ghostly whisper; "It'll be okay..."

A snowy eve
Filled with quiet despair
And frozen crystals caught
In the cold, twisted metal resting there...

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