Going home.
Now that you are on your own.
Falling leaves
paint this dying scene.

Go Before.
I had grieved you so many times.
over and over
Again.
the bottle was your only friend.

and I can’t ever know the demons that chased you.
the ghosts in you eyes.
so much held tight inside.

and even if I know something of these songs that you sing.
and it took you away from before your time.

and I am here really to see the people and things you left behind.
the wreckage of a life not lived
I’m part of what washed up on your tide.