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Array
(
[sid] => 67354
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Night Out
[time] => 2004-10-14 00:24:55
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => The clinging sound of glasses Composes the melody for the bar scene. The pitch is high and the tempo is quick. But I sit low sulking in my chair. I force my lips to kiss the glass And drink from it the bitter nectar Of retribution and forced happiness Repeating the cycle to lose myself. Keep the beer flowing like water But there’s no purity in it. Just remorse and regret When the bottom of the glass stares me down. It’s a Tuesday night and the beer is cheap. I’ve sold my emotions to the bartender. I order one more beer when he says, “last call.” And immediately think of how she left me. Couples stager along, and I follow behind. Letting their shadows wash over me I pretend. I reach the next bar, they all look the same. And I order another round. Later a cigarette rests on my tongue. As a couple flirts close by. I breathe slowly, letting the fumes cloud my brain And for a moment I can handle it. But the alcohol has already penetrated me. It finds my memories and releases them. I return home holding back my emotions. But am too weak when alone in my room. I make a call to a friend who must feel pity. She listens to me rant on and on. It’s time to sleep so I’ll shut up. And close my eyes and shut down. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 157 [topic] => 22 [informant] => tman [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => LostLove )
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