empty

empty.
my beer,
my beach,
my heart and my fucking soul.

my house,
my life,
my purpose...
away at school and far away
from here.

refill.
helps some
but just a bandage for the rest of the day.
tomorrow it'll start all over again
and I'll apply another bandage
to get to Saturday.
by then the requirements of an on-call status might prevent the perpetuation of the binge that started the day they left...
the day I left and never returned.

the sun is light in September.
the storm brought an end to unbearable heat,
and replaced it with the cool sadness that
summer's almost gone...thanks Jim.

the water is still warm enough to wade in,
swim,
surf,
suffocate.
the spark just isn't there
the playful inner child left with them.
the reason to play,
the cause to play,
everything that brought me out of the chair,
and in there.
was left in a parking lot in Ohio.

I can still feel my children's tears.
I still have plenty of my own.
I fucking hate being on this beach,
all alone.