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Don stepped outside. |
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It feels good to be alone. |
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He wished he was drunk. |
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He thought about something he said, |
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And how stupid it had sounded. |
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He should forget about it. |
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He decided to piss, but he couldn't. |
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(A plane passes silently overhead) |
|
|
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The streetlights, and the buds on the trees, were still. |
|
|
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It finally came, he took a deep breath. |
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It made him feel strong, and determined, |
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To go back inside. |
|
|
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The light. |
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Their backs. |
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The conversations. |
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The couples, romancing, so natural. |
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His friends stare, |
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With eyes, like the heads of nails. |
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The others. |
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Glances. |
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With amusement, |
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With amazement, |
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With contempt. |
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So distant, |
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With malice, |
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For being, a sty in their engagement. |
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Like swimming underwater in the darkness. |
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Like walking through an empty house, |
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Speaking to an imaginary audience. |
|
|
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He watched, outside. |
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A soul without a key. |
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He could not dance to anything. |
|
|
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Don left, |
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And drove, |
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And howled, |
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And laughed, |
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At himself. |
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He felt he knew what that was. |
|
|
|
Don woke up, |
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And looked at the night before. |
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He knew what he had to do. |
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He was responsible. |
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In the mirror, |
|
He saw his friend |
