Jaulita

Jaulita.

I feel slick and smooth as a freshly peeled lizard. I am the barking dog in the night. Never seen, but always out there. Nothing can be taken from me that wasn’t ever mine in the first place.  I’m knocking on the walls, but there is no one listening. In my kitchen I have six full bottles of tequila. In the fridge I have two cases of beer in green bottles. They clink with a kind of laughter every time I open the door to drink another of them down. And I’m going to drink it all. One way or another, I could use some help. How I fail and fail. Failed a good woman. Failed heaven. Failed my sons and daughters. I fail at poetry and heroism too. Even after I’ve given up my lies, my truths can no longer be trusted. Endless lonely drunken nights with only a cat that can’t stand me. There is nothing that I attempt to hold on to that will ever really belong to me. But I’ll keep holding on. Somewhere out there, not too far away, is a young woman that held my heart in her eyes, in her laugh and in her kiss, but never in her heart. My bed will be empty forever and ever the day I let go of her memory for good. She will have never existed. And neither will I. Summer is on the way. The days are longer again. But they are wasted on me. Long summer nights are for youngsters, running laughing and chasing. There is little for me. Only more time to drink away the regret of being out run. My boots become heavier and heavier. The laces more frayed. The floor creaks under my redundant feet.  For each of us there is escape. And for me, mine can be poured into a tiny glass and thrown down into my belly. Until I find another way, I’ll keep tossing them back. Tossing them back, wagering against the sunrise.

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About magnumturtle

I write fiction.
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