I’ve built a wall beside myself

to keep others safely distant

your lies still dig inside me

both numbing and persistent

you cast aside your virtue

and left without a thought

it’s easy to dismiss it now

as a lesson harshly taught

it’s strange how things unravel

how quickly we can fall from grace

you once soothed my withered heart

with the solace in your embrace


now, when I get a little money

I just spend it on myself

no one cares to know me

I take my comfort off the shelf

it’s a cold, hard type of lonely

I wish no other man to feel

it’s a silent, sweet despair

that’s both stark and yet, surreal


I will often hear her laughter

as women pass me on the street

but their eyes don’t have her twinkle

and their kisses aren’t as sweet

now I sit here with my whiskey

in a cheap no-tell motel

gripping tightly to the bottle

lest I slide down into hell


About digthroughlife

I am a fifty-three year old poet who also writes fiction. I worked twenty-three years for the USPS, though never enthusiastically. I am a member of French Writers Worldwide and have had several poems published in French and Spanish. I hold strong opinions on music, film, and human rights. Some of my influences are Charles Bukowski, Arthur Rimbaud, Dylan Thomas, Leonard Cohen, Tom Waits, Bob Dylan, Sylvia Plath, W.B Yeats, Bob Marley, William Blake, and Hunter S. Thompson. I'm an avid fan of the New York Yankees, Oakland Raiders, and Indiana Pacers. I like traveling by car. I enjoy seeing rock and alt-country bands in small venues. I hold a black belt in Taekwondo, but no longer spar due to injuries incurred in a motorcycle accident in 2005. I play acoustic guitar. I love Crown Royal whiskey and California Kush. Women are both the bane of my existence and all that sustains me. I believe strongly in the power of love and heartbreak. View all posts by digthroughlife

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