sometimes being alone

sometimes,
when your drinking
alone,
in some bar,
or in
the confinement
of your own apartment,
all you can do
is think
in terms of
failed love.

it will haunt you,
turning you into
that little boy
that lost
a dead puppy
to a car,
on
the side of a road.

and sometimes
there is just nobody
whom you feel you can turn
to,
when you are nothing but
roadkill.

and then
you'll go to that bar,
and watch the two couples
in that place
face eachother,
nose to nose,
like it's some personal communion.

and they talk in terms
of politics,
of mutual friends,
of personal agendas,
and
both parties are just living by
that thread,
that connects,
that thrives
on the number two.

and there you are,
just sitting alone,
on that barstool,
watching the highlights
on espn,
wondering,
when you will become
that one
with somebody again,
with that girl.

so you go home
and your apartment is still
empty,
the paintings
and pictures still
haven't been hung
on the walls,

and the two people
whom you've texted,
still haven't replied.

you just imagine staying alone
forever,
or until
you're finally dead.

so
you pour yourself
another drink,
and write this,
a homage,
that is constructed
from nothing more
than being your final
drink.