Red Wine And Loneliness

Found another long lost pity party. This one is fun for me to read now, I can laugh at myself and shake my head from the safety and distance of a few years.
This is for those of you in that dark place now. I love you.

The Memory Of Trees

The fruits of my labor have fallen from the money tree to litter the grass, slightly fermenting on the gentle downward slope of my good intentions. When I partake of this heady and slightly desiccated flesh, I become drunk on the dreaming of sweet summer games.

Empty arms and a glass half full, I gaze into the crimson depths held in the fragile embrace of crystal.

Wandering from window to window, as if I expect to see something hopeful through the panes and the pains. Drifting through darkened hallways like a ghost, passing silently doorways exuding the soft sounds of those who have found their pillow welcoming. Stealthily turning the latch on the back door to slip softly into the night, with a vice in each hand. The smoke of my cigarette lingers heavy in the still air, making of itself a spectre beside me in the darkness.

The grass is frozen, slightly thawing…

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