Originally written 07 May 2008
There is something in his sigh.
Something that says he has had enough.
He walks from place to place never feeling at home, never knowing where he is going next.
There is something in his stride.
Something that says he has no where to go.
He breathes and breathes
He drinks his whiskey each gulp bigger then the last. I think he is trying to forget who he is.
I think he is beautiful, I tell him he is beautiful. He doesn’t believe me.
Come rest in my arms and forget who you are. We can get lost here and forget that the night steals the sun.