The Long Nights
The nights I wake up
like a drowning man
the moment he breaks
through the surface finally
able to draw a breath.
The weight of disappointment,
memories of passion traded
for safety, heavy enough
to stop my heart. I lie awake
and try to recall what it felt like
when I was hungry and naked;
living in the wild.
The nights I am alone,
tormented by ghosts in the dark;
by the women that loved me
until I turned and ravaged them
in the glow of full moonlight.
Nights when the whiskey
won’t whitewash my sins
and help me forget their faces.
Like the wail of a distant siren,
their cries echo and taunt me
in the emptiness before dawn.
SMG
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