Why?

[i]Why?

A thousand places
you could choose to hang your hat
nurse your drink
and scatter peanut shells on the floor
But you come here

Here?
 
Night after fucking night
you sit on your barstool,
watching me surreptitiously
through a veil of smoke and haze
gaping at the open and festering wounds
of my own choosing

You never speak or acknowldege my presence
but I can feel you there watching
from the shadows and murky silence
feel your eyes roaming my skin
crawling my thoughts
deconstructing my bruised lines
---longing to touch me yet again

Your presence unsettles me

Can you really think to save me?
Do you imagine I will finally look up and see you?
That drunken recollection of the past
shall bring me crashing to my sober senses?

I can't drink with a guilty conscience

I smile wryly, jaded by experience
order another
--- This one is for the road

Looks like it's time to move on

 
Funny thing about these places...
given time
old haunts all look the same
and after a few lines?
I know it will feel just like home