{"sf1_id":188467,"sf2_id":"AnKyokoe","title":"Random Thoughts in a semi-poetic form","author":"Ankalis","words":420,"posted_at":"2010-10-23T17:09:00.000Z","tags":["Poem","unedited"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/188467-random-thoughts-in-a-semi-poetic-form","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/AnKyokoe","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/02/6e/026e0c97-b558-4f68-9a91-75eb18973147","description":"","content":"It's another winter,\n\nif you can call it that here.\n\nBalmy seventy-degree weather,\n\ncool breezes.\n\nSo then why do I feel so cold inside?\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nI could die today.\n\nWould you care?\n\nWould anyone?\n\nSure, my funeral would have\n\nthrongs in attendance.\n\nI have no doubts about that.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nBut what about the next day?\n\nOr the one after that?\n\nWould anyone think of me?\n\nI think that, perhaps,\n\nI could count those who would mourn\n\nfor so many days, weeks, months, even years,\n\non the fingers of one hand.\n\nIf I'm lucky.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nIt's times like these I could use a cold beer,\n\nmaybe a bottle of wine.\n\nFuck it, just hand me a handle\n\nand I'll be stupefied till dawn rises\n\nand my head drops\n\ndown towards the porcelan god.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nI would bow to you, oh lord,\n\nbut today is work.\n\nTomorrow, community service.\n\nMaybe tomorrow night?\n\nNo, I have to remain strong.\n\nThat's what I'm told, anyway.\n\nAlcohol is a demon.\n\nThat demon is my best friend.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nStrong for what?\n\nI question that all the time now.\n\nWhat is the point of being the pillar,\n\nwhen the ceiling you hold up shelters no one?\n\nMy dog would have mourned, I'd like to think,\n\nbut that's not her job now, it's mine.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nMy exes? My family?\n\nWhat family? They pretend not to know me.\n\nI'm the black stain on their white-washed waspiness.\n\nMy colleagues? What am I to them?\n\nA friendly face, a hard worker?\n\nThese things don't get you to be mourned.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnd yet, why desire their mourning?\n\nWould it not be better they did not?\n\nShall I spare others the task of the funeral?\n\nShall I keep you from feeling the sting\n\nthat mortally wounds you every time you realize it's there,\n\nlike an uncurable venerial disease?\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nDon't mind me, I ramble.\n\nEveryone feels empty inside\n\nat least from time to time.\n\nThat's what I've been told, anyways.\n\nI've been told many things,\n\nwho knows if I should take it all at face value.\n\nIt could be that the value of words\n\nare as well-backed as a dollar bill,\n\nbut we all know the doctrine of the dollar,\n\nfalse as Molech.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nFor now, I keep stepping forward,\n\nbecause that's all I know to do.\n\nPerhaps minutes from now, hours further,\n\nor even days ahead,\n\nmy sense of purpose will return to me,\n\nas it always does.\n\nBut for now,\n\nI taste the bitter medicine of loneliness,\n\nbut only for now.\n\n  \n  \n\n"}