Your voice became muffled again as I stared down at the concrete not daring to say a word as your expressed your gratitude in shouting as though there was even a point to it anymore. I'm sure the neighbors are listening more attentively to your yelling than I am; I've heard it all before and I don't really care anymore. The only thought in my mind is going back to the bottle of vodka waiting for me inside the house. And even as I turn around without a word and walk back to the house you continue screaming, and I wonder if you even realize just how much I've given up on this.
Painted Lies
Always just a shadow-
Yelling once again,
Out the door again;
And I'm painting in all the
Missing details of your lies.
Sharp bristled pain
From red-painted backs,
Falling for her words
And I'm running out of black.
Trudging across the canvas,
Touching up every word you said.
And I beam in delight as
Every stroke recreates you
Almost real enough to believe.