written August 2011
He sat there thumbing through the photographs
it was bottoms up when he saw her
they were just kids sharing in a laugh
ten years gone it all was such a blur.
Now he was broken from his glory days
the whiskey wasn’t working anymore
there was no way he’d ever change his ways
he drove back over to the liquor store
The bottle grabbed on to his mind and soul
he hadn’t been at peace in many years
he cried often for his naïve role
jumped back off the wagon and said ‘cheers’.
The tears welled up, he took another sip
promised himself he’d never fight again
when Satan came in swinging from the hip
he bowed his tired head and said ‘amen’.
At that point he had nothing left to lose
he fought on though as if it were his last
but couldn’t twelve-step away from the pain
just praying that this moment would soon pass.
He awoke in vomit, sweat and blood
an empty bottle and a runny nose
the devil was still hanging on to life
it was then he knew just where he had to go.
He’d have to fight the devil down in hell
he’d done all that he could with life’s restraints
it would be like when an archangel fell.
Though would it? He knew more sinners than saints
He wrote his mom a note to say goodbye
saying one last time ‘I love you so’
but he was tired of line after line
pissing away his future, blow by blow.
He went upstairs, opened his dresser drawer
where he kept the accolades he earned in vain
he knew it was all bullshit they fought for
now he was ready to go end the pain.
He picked the Jameson up off the table
poured himself a glass for old times’ sake
he knew full well he was willing and able
but still his sweaty hands began to shake.
He gripped that weapon like he’d learned to do
after eighteen years of faith and god
after he swore an oath and sold his soul
but he remembered now god was a fraud.
Heaven and hell are parables, not real
but he was ready for the nothingness
he was sick of all the pain, concealed
so he marched off to a lasting rest.