married to be burried

2013-02-13 | 11:58 a.m.

The width and breadth of reaIity
The depth of lost
I don't know one single person who can understand.
Sipping water in the smoke of a darkened bar,
Waiting to ferry alcholic friends is no way to spend a weekend.
Bleeding time and money for all my closest leeches.
And I tell him I'm done and I want to leave- unhappy, unfulfilled-
And he simply says no.
Four five years, he keeps telling me no.
Now in a plywood cubicle, the corner of an empty business center, in Portland International Airport-
I am waiting to go back to all that.
In California they are taking my uncle off of life support.
I know I will fly out to his funeral alone.
When I come back to Texas, my other half of my disease will be waiting for me with open palms, take these pills.
All around me, they have decided- I shouldn't leave ever. I only need pills, then I won't care about anything.
And finally I can be loveless, sexless, bled, waiting, alone and at their service forever.
The flight is boarding.
So long to me.

work on your management skills | promote

synergy
signed documents
memos
mail
company heresy
The Man
corporation