home

a line

A dancer,

a fool…

   drunkard.

Confused,

lost.

An invite

  to destroy…

     forget.

“I can get you what you need,

if need be.

If you ask me,”

(I didn’t)

“I think you should”.

I’m a writer,

a sufferer,

questioning my soul.

“Dance, drink, fuck!”

So I dance,

with the man

who’s friend

won’t come home.