I didn’t think of you when my eyes went wide
when the buzz began and I was brushing
residue from my stubbly, sleep-deprived face
when the sky was brilliant blue
and the summer air felt fresh on my bare knees
but I thought of you later.
I thought of you as I crashed hard
when the liquor which came for free
returned to take its toll on my weary mind
because you aren’t the rush, the buzz, the high.
You are the dread crash and comedown
when the drugs have run out, much like you did
and you come to fill that vacant void
from somewhere across the wastes of time and space
but you’re a ghost, and these thoughts occupy me
like water poured into an endless pit
left me wanting always more
and never receiving.
I thought of you then.