Walking down Burgundy
With jazz in my ear,
Reeling from the balm of alcohol.
The feeling of peace is in my soul,
A cig in my mouth
And no burden on my shoulders.
I wonder why this can’t be permanent.
I walk the dark streets
Making my way home
Content to be
For once, solitude does not equal
and I don’t give a damn about
He or Him or His
All melancholia has washed away:
This city is the soap and water
I desperately needed.
My eyes fight to stay open
To enjoy this euphoric state
That my ego needs.
I am at peace.
How did I survive before it? and
How will I go on from here?
I’m currently wise enough to know
Not to question a good thing.
Let me deal with my sorrows in the
Harsh light of day.
For right now — on this night —
I am free.