Wasted (no more)

You can’t have me anymore
and whatever you took before
is no longer yours.

Porcelain, stroking the bathroom floor, looking up to a god I couldn’t love, much easier to ignore,
less respect for me,
only fog, hazy thoughts drug through dead end streets…
As if it could get any worse.
That was my last time, no more bile, sweat and terror from shakes, anxious, that tonight will be the same, and no one to remind-
no one there to save me, a used up life. Hated.
Wasted.

You can’t take my soul, this last stroke of light
Spirits moving in and out of me, but no bottle in sight.
The chance to prove them all right,
Or one last desperate chance, claw up from the bottom,
breaking free of darkness– the endless nights.
Left the the way we found them.

You can’t have me anymore, I picked up what was left,
off the floor, one more shot at this–
and I forgive myself.
Existing inside a new life, second sight
and a chance to be reborn.
Wasted no more…

Saturday Night Fever

It makes me scared to leave you.
More than being alone– the thought of you, all that’s left
or just left behind.
My own devices,
they’re just thoughts to betray.
Still I move at the slightest notion
you can save me, and save memories for a later day.

Let’s start living.

Call me from out of the blue,
I’m waiting by the phone.
Doesn’t mean I’m alone,
Chasing yesterday and what left of you.