Songs From a Slowly Sinking Ship

...And We Shall Never Reach Heaven

“…and we shall never reach heaven…”singing incessant sing along song to myself in my battle
weary brain laying awake in silence on hung over Sunday-just one of many-filled to brim with angry
angsty thought crippling hum of my screaming ears and brain-though this one finds me not the least bit
alone-camera pan to my left finds strange blonde nestled deep in Morpheus’ arms in the spot usually
reserved for myself in ugly stained mattress on corner of bedroom floor-whole overhead shot of both of
us now fully in frame an establishing shot which uncovers one very real fact which has gone from being
internal and is now slowly becoming externally obvious-that I am sick deep within my guts. Sigh-groan-
moan-agh!-hop over her peaceful stupid frame of scrawny body like hurtle race champeen 2008-down
endless dank dripping moist-dismal and dreary hall to bathroom-to sink to puke-no time to make it to
toilet-just let loose there in basin for an eternity-pull back with camera which switches from handheld for
big sickened run to crane shot pull back from sink to reveal my back and half reflection in dust caked
mirror-I gaze into it with a sudden start of shock and misery-still dressed in last night’s clothes-a white
dress shirt I used to love-now look upon with sickened spite as it clings to my gaunt frame like that of an
ill fitting body bag. Wash face-hands-sink-it stained red from deep beer pukes-stagger a bit for affect-
stumble outdoor leaning on walls all the way to bed room-followed close behind by imagined hand held3
camera which swings around me as I step through bedroom doorway to once more reveal blonde having
not so much as budged-all smiling and peaceful like-revealing blood and vomit stained carpet and
remnants of long forgotten evident last night drunk sexual exploits. I slip back over her into my little nook
of bed-shivering with sickness-remembering now her appearing at my door last evening clutching gift of
six pack and not much else-saying some mumbled excuse of “I can’t drink as I have to go to work early
tomorrow but you can have them if you like”-what a fucking nasty lawyer trick she pulled! The nerve!-
offering sad lonesome drunk free six pack-his heart still not even beginning the healing process over
heartbreak of wife leaving two months earlier with the baby in tow-and yet, how graciously I accepted it
as if it were a housewarming gift basket-first one ever-and devoured each bottle of the River Styx elixir as
if it were my very life’s blood-collapsing breast to breast-kiss to kiss in sad-insane flashing embrace with
strangest little blonde you ever did see-slamming into walls with loud crashes-finally bedroom where
things suddenly become nothing but hazy-blurry-bleary-weary-dream like fog. All twisted up visions
flash before me-eye sparkly sight bugs fluttering in soft bedroom breezes of starving man-twinkle-twinkle
little stars all falling forward-upward-onward-caressing the edges of air then vanishing into the ether of
breaths drawn slowly in and out and onto and underneath. So here I am, now-clinging to blankets beside a girl I cannot for the life that still beats within me recall the name of though I know she’s told me countless
times in the two weeks I’ve known her online before this sudden anxious meeting in the flesh-the blood-
the physical realm of waking world-though in state of mind not really awake at all or even alive-just
being-just breathing-just moving forward-backward-in between-now I’m nudging her to a response of a
faint reply of “hmm?”-“Don’t you have to get up for work?”-“No…I set my alarm, remember?”-with this
I slump-thump-bump back to bed pillow as she cradles me in crook of thin-pale-blue arm as I sink away
but try my best to hide it-I sigh and soft moan though not moan of pleasure-moan of dread and slow
sickness. I want in this moment to either disappear myself or for her to disappear-either way to be alone-
totally-completely-without a doubt-a hint-and slant-so bent and broken and busted-rusted-soft yellow
crusted to the core of my soul and sick guts-just to be as far removed from this hanging moment as
possible-glued to pillow stains in unwanted cuddling-snuggle-cradle of arm pit against slumped shoulder
of sad alcoholic ailment-frailment-entailment-entanglement-just a stupid statement-listening to distant
cries of cathedral church bells-people spinning like tops along sidewalk dressed up in their best doing
same as me-seeking salvation-how badly do I, in this weak moment-suddenly feel my pessimistic view of
spirituality lift and long for their sort of savior-that of the unknown-of prayer-of true communion-yet
instead here I am forever seeking the same thing in the bottom of dirty bottles and in the arms of strange fractured angels-all earth bound and truly empty-no real hope to be saved in these items-all just vast
emptiness-hopeless searching-searching-searching-perching-puking-purging-etcetera etcetera…and so it
goes-and goes-and goes…My eyes slam shut like rusty door jambs-suddenly slipping into slumber for
one brief moment before they shoot open like snapping curtains pulled then let go-all this to the faint film
score of far closer-more incessant-more insistent ringing of bells-that of her alarm as she shoots up into
the Summer bed-not even bothering to hit the snooze on it but just letting it ring and ring and ring-bring!-
bbrrrrriiiiing!!-bbbrrrinnng!!-and dashing mad dash-slash-splish-sploosh-splash-her lovely ass wiggling
in bedtime shorts from bedside down hall to piss with door open-stomping back into the room-dust and
far too much makeup filling room with repugnant perfumes swallowing my every much needed breath-try
not to gag-try not to puke right here in front of her despite her no doubt having seen what remained of my
early morning alone dreary sad sickness there in sink-yes-covered in so much make up she now takes on
the visage of a dead eyed strange blonde China Doll-I again sink at her advances so welcomed in my
drunken state night before as she bends down to kiss me farewell-muttering false promises through
clinched teeth to get together again soon-to spend more time together-to go out-to have big roaring two
person drunk in the streets somewhere-to actually fully fuck instead of school kid actions of “everything
but…”-breathing sigh of relief as she vanishes into the thinness of it all like some sex mad ghost-hearing
door open then slam behind her finding me once more alone and forgotten. Strange blonde will call many
times over the next two months to follow through on promised plans-none of which will I ever answer
with more than a shudder and total act of ignoring more incessant clanging bells-calls thankfully cut short
in the third month when I lose my job and my phone is finally disconnected.

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