having a sad night

one of those wish i were being held nights

feathered indians by tyler childers

faded by POS

kills to be resistant by bully

sound track of my mental state

swore i would just go get a bottle of whiskey before doing this to myself again

listen to sad songs and embrace the pain

swore i would just drink myself sober, or smoke myself low

get sloppy drunk and dance in place with my glass companion

ryo fukui willow weep for me

i know once the jazz starts i am done for the evening

should have made dinner first

done something before falling into the high hat taps, the piano, the softly strumming bass

i fucked myself up

another i am an idiot night

another write too much night

another dredge up the past and spill my guys kind of night

but it has a soundtrack

what i would give for a not another night alone night

i have the music though

and a half a pack of crackers

and an evil smile

one that says trouble is on the way

the kind of smile that let’s people know something is not quite right

mischevious and a step west of normal

one of those kind of nights