Alcoholic.

Contemporary poem.

I not trying to write a collection

of poetry about you dying. But,
Every new beginning
ends at the same place.

I just need to read
one honest poem
written by me,

depicting accurately
my memories; now slurred
with your rejection.

But every finished poem
is never the poem
I needed to read.

So I begin again, �" choosing
carefully; the words
that will this time capture you

in just the right light.
Maybe what I need to
read is beyond language:

maybe just a touch,
or a look,
or just to watch your face

confronted with
all of my anger
would be enough.