I am tired.
I am drunk.
I am darkened
by the weather
and my mood
and the very state of things.
I am dirty, scuffed,
beaten down
by too many days and nights
experiencing my destiny.

I am achey.
I am wobbly.
I am grasping napkins from bars
lipstick laden numbers
telling me just where to go
and with whom.
I am making bad decisions.
I am living wrong.

I am bleeding.
I am drunk.
I am hurting
and hurtling towards something
I can’t see
at a rapid clip.
I am broken.
I am debased.
I am outside your door,
waiting for you to answer my call
and I’m hoping
you’re too smart to do so
for your own sake.