I'm only really home when that whiskey-stained smile and smoking eyes both squint hello:
A taunting expression of familiarity, and yet distance
Since that face doesn't know who I am
When it's raw with cigarettes and sweat
Splattered from an oozing liver laughing with a mouth wide open
Struggling not to burst
From the pounding burning stress shamelessly trickling in
and taking over.
And when it leaves, glossy eyelids say goodnight,
And beg to be tucked in;
Forgiven when morning comes.
Despite my own stinging eyes and clenched chest,
I feign the ignorance of what she favorably forgets.
I tie knots to hold the last beads of dignity together.
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