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May 20, 2024

No Words Needed Today

By John Patrick Robbins

No Words Needed Today

It had been weeks since Roberts's death.
I seemed to be the only one that noticed.

Still I hadn't allowed his passing to slow my own love affair with the bottle.

I remained stuck in my little hole in the wall.

The booze wasn't going down as once it so easily had.
I had a bad gut since I was a child.
Yes we are always drawn to the things that can kill us.

The wrong women and vice versa for them.
The attraction to the edge was undeniable.

I wrote full time as well as drank full time,
and avoided others at all costs.

There is safety in being alone, no friends meant no conversations.

Having to grasp words when silence seemed to speak far greater than I.

Maybe I was a coward or just maybe I was a lazy bastard.

I just know a sunrise never needed words.
The ocean on a full moon made far better music than anything that spewed from a stereo speaker.

I just knew in the silence I sensed you.

We cannot replace what is taken from this life.

Words although my trade fell empty from my soul's thought onto this dirty unswept floor.

It had been weeks since last we spoke,
and now those moments haunted my existence.

I guess you decided the end for yourself.

I poured another drink.
It tasted vile.
I wondered where the road led.

I yearned for escape yet sat within the confines of my room.

I sat as you did till your farewell from this life.

No matter the mystery behind it you were dead just the same.

I looked to the page as woman yearning to dance.

And I was the drunk too caught up in his own bullshit to get off his ass.

I looked to the page in front of me and simply turned away.

Not tonight my dear.
For the night is almost spent and the sunrise needs no words today.

Article © John Patrick Robbins. All rights reserved.
Published on 2018-09-17
Image(s) are public domain.
1 Reader Comments
roger turner
10:24:52 AM
I love all of his stuff. John is a true rebel who writes the way we all feel sometimes but can't find the words to say ourselves, especially once we start looking in the bottom of a bottle for the answers to questions no one asks aloud.
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