The Morning After

Woke up the next morning with the
sun coming through the blinds in it’s
bright and warm brilliance and I just
wanted to hide like Adam who was
full of shame after giving into temptation
and couldn’t face god.
Screaming pain in my head like someone
drove a spike through my brain and
the taste of stale cigarettes and beer
so heavy in my mouth that I
just wanna vomit.
I’m thinking shit like “This can’t be real!”
and “What has become of my life?”
I’m thinking of my father and his father
before him and the cycles of addiction.
I’m feeling shame and self loathing, drowning
in self pity, and no one wants
to sit next to a man like
that except maybe ghosts.
The ghosts are real and always willing
to sit and have a drink with
an old friend if you’re willing to buy.
Cheap motherfuckers never pick up the tab.
So I’m sitting there with the hang over
raging like internal storm, going over the
events of the night before which seem
like a dream thought I can still
feel the heat of yesterday radiating off
my skin all dewy with sweat and
the concrete driveway as I wait for
a moment of clarity which comes late in the day.
I was sober but I was already
half awake and half dreamy eyed.
May as well have been sleep walking
through the day in the way I
hadn’t done shit but exist in the stillness.
At sunset I realized all at once
like a brick to the head that
my whole life I’d been wallowing in
self pity like a hog getting fat
on my own sense of entitlement and
the sympathy of others. I was no
better than those old men who came
before me and hung themselves on the
branches of our family tree.
I really needed release.
I needed exorcism.
By the time the night had come
at last I needed to go staggering
out and really howl at the moon.
I was so alone there in that
moment as I sat crying before the
eyes of the goddess mother.
The next morning I could still feel
the heartache- confusion- boredom except it didn’t
seem so bad looking back on it
in the light of day and I
just wanted to die, felt like I
had died, felt like a walking-talking
pile of shit who owed everyone an apology.
I was sitting there thinking “ Lord forgive me”
in the rehydration morning.
Jesus Christ, I’m a mess.