Salvation

For the first time in ages, you howl at the moment. You wail and you gulp salt tears. You cry aSDF LKUAdadjfkjnd, as someone wrote to you earlier; a stranger who knew you know the pain of abandonment.

Everyone either thinks you cry every day or not at all but you and you alone know the pain subsides and only at these weak moments you let it out. It's a stubbed toe; an over friendly look in a friend; a cold word from someone you love. And writing that very word, it makes you realise the emptiness.

And as your tears drop on the keyboard, your stubbed toe throbs and you think "screw this I have survived so much more, I will go on".

Inside your head, a dream, an image of loveliness, too young to know, too young to hold. You grasp at the air. "And I being poor have only my dreams", the words of another Irishman, who floods your mind with the great poets who nursed you through every pain that lay before.

Don't pour another drink...