The Morning After

Tags

confusion, conscience, despair, fear, forgetting, guilt, hangover, imagination, memory loss, mystery

 

There’s a misty place between nightmare and dawn.
Moving shadows are frightening to look upon.
There’s another world where reality ends,
Friends become enemies; enemies — friends.

Reluctant to move or to open my eyes.
There’s a body beside me — that’s a surprise.
Hearing their breathing, an occasional whine;
Knowing they’re alive — that’s a positive sign.

Opening one eye, a little, just a peep.
Whoever they are, I think they’re asleep.
I sneak out of bed to take a look ’round —
Finding wallet and clothes, I don’t make a sound.

Tiptoeing quietly, on little mouse feet,
when a voice behind me, so soft and so sweet,
says, “Come back to bed, dear, you don’t have to work.”
I feel very sheepish, I feel like a jerk.

“It’s the weekend; we have two whole days to play,
so come back to bed and we’ll start right away.”
Now it makes sense, I’m home — I belong.
How could I have been so confused and so wrong?

Last evening’s a blur; I blame it on drink —
there were faces, places — it’s so hard to think.
Somehow I got here, so it must be okay.
I’ll figure things out, some other day.

 
 
 
Image: http://ow.ly/SqtPw

Read about my friends here  http://buff.ly/1wyjiKS

 

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