Posted in Life, Prose, Relationships

Facing My Fears

Wasn’t as fun

as getting drunk, and being crazy

telling everyone, what I thought of them,

quitting my job, and smashing my car,

going off on a lark, while painting the town red


Facing the wife,

hungover,  painfully sober with splitting headache

without any friends,

or a job, or a car

grounded, with paint on my best shoes


and the fear growing  in me, as my eyes grew

less red…..


and she grew more clear….



My profile might reflect who I am, what I think and why I write what I do. My profile might just reveal the inner workings of a deranged mind, a helpless soul, and a self-destructive way of living. Don't worry. I'm OK. I've just lost sight of my little sister in the evening clouds....

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