Something Found

Where do you go when you’re sad?  I get lost inside myself.  I dive into a wine bottle and go swimming through all the old memories that I thought I had left on the tarmac in Chicago.  And now I’m at baggage claim.  I’m mixing metaphors like liquors.  Blacking out like I wish the past would.  But I know better.  I know I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t been there.  I’m tough like the times I come from.  But I forget to be cautious when I’m sad and drinking.  I drown in lost things.  Lost loves.  Bruises in the shape of handprints.  My family.  Love.  God, what is love?  And who has some I can borrow?  Next round is on me.  And I keep hearing the feeling ALONE.  ALONE is a feeling that echoes.  And then it’s not a feeling; it’s headlights and I’m in it.  ALONE.  Cheers!  I’m good, I swear.  This is just a moment in time.  Come find me on a Sunday, happy with the way sunlight caresses me in the morning.  Listen to me laugh at a passage in a good book in bed on a lazy evening.  Watch me weave stories for you to dress me in.  I don’t want to wear any of those secondhand words, offhanded remarks that the world gives me.  Fall for the way I eat an apple as I tiptoe naked across the floor.  But maybe you’re afraid of falling, the way I’m afraid of falling.  So just come when you’re ready.  I’ll be someone found.