Crashbox

I really want to post some pictures
As I did a time or two
Or maybe write some poetry
If my thoughts could be words
I have tried to be happy and forget
But I have not booze enough
And then it all comes back besides
When you need it furthest away
And you lay on your back
And groan at the ceiling
Because it just ain't right
Though you wish it was
But the sun shines again
Hot and irritable on your skin
Making you think of other skin
And heats long and short past
With groping lips waking to cold
Grasping fingers on air
Remember the pitiful lines on a face
That once was dead
And I can't go but I must
So walking and quaking
In a wind-blow year
Thinking and talking as if I were here
Sitting in the dark
Wishing for sleep or comfort
Ashing now and again
Wondering just how your lungs are faring
Choices are the hardest to make
When you need so hard
When the offer is of the sweetest stuff
Of clutching searching abandoning
Could be
Must be
Vanishing in a cloud
A warm dawn
A retreating reflection
A sleepy desperation
We really do want to be told why we're sad
Maybe I could write my mind to you
Fumble with paper and pen
Strum it on a guitar
But I can't say what I would
Nor can they