Once upon a time, there was an angry little elf.
who thought of absolutely no one, but of only himself.
He’s always so mad, which made the other elves very sad,
with his complaints that work, work, work, was all they ever had.
Even his friends would call him mean and selfish.
“Why are you not nice? Why are you not elfish?”
No matter what they say, he swore he’d never listen,
because ending the holidays had become his evil elf mission.
The ocean called out for me today
it’s salt carried to my lips by a piercing wind
a message kept from a childhood forgotten
Between fact and failure
I lay face down in muddied water
Neck broken, heart still
My sweat unrecognized, salts cold blood
For I am left behind
just like others
find me beneath the gallows
…at first sign of weakness
they will sip their drinks, sip faster
at the feet of false gods
in the name of the blinding rich
Sometimes, I think my heart breaks without telling me
Like it’s trying to feel something it once did before
Though, if I allow myself to give in to it’s longing
I’ll go and break it even more
This time it didn’t matter if I held you
I guess my heart grew stronger from all the breaks
Like a junky with a kicked addiction
my track marks no longer have aches
I fought through the pain of withdrawal
alone and in despair
Worth nothing more to you, forgotten
in some gutter behind nowhere
Day and night I yearned for another fix
even if it was to be my last
Only it was you who controlled the poison
Stronger than any vial or any glass
I had to kick this dirty habit
I just had to say goodbye
For the therapy of holding on to you
was worse than coming down from the high
Now, my veins are finally clean
suppressed from the urge of you
It took my own rock bottom to discover…
that a drug can be tainted too
When I turned that key, the night was finally over
It wasn’t easy, they threw a few fists
Mad that the ale had dried up
Now, in the calm of being left alone
I would start with the ashes
dumping out another one of those “greatest nights ever”
As morning slowly took her place
I sat for once on a spinning stool
listening to the buzz of electricity like it was a farewell song
Just me and the ends of unfinished cigarettes
some drowned in half empty glasses
recounting stories of bravery, betrayal, and most times regret
Nights were once my domain
I was like a wrangler of saucy drunks
and disloyal eyes all bidding for my complete attention
Back then my stories were therapy
Music, a tool of enticement
friendly faces better than a tip
Sure, the memories
But, the smell, the taste, the touch,
All still left to make believe
I miss…
The very start
Opening characters, scene one
Greener grass, the bluest skies, salty ocean
That street light at night where I would measure my shadow to the tip of the moon
Those flaked fences, white
A particular damp night sky that I loved and haven’t smelt in a long, long time
Tipped-toed curbs, run past the shop
Yes, my eyes could go blind and I would still make it anyway
Follow the path by memory alone…to my home
Grab a bunch of those crazy flowers along the way
But now, I can only recount
because tomorrow had to come
and now strangers walk about
like I was never even there
