Bitter disappointment

Hot or cold, I'm not happy
bitter disappointment fills my mouth
leaving behind a taste like pennies.

I roll it around my tongue
pressing it into the roof of my mouth
desperately wanting to bite down
knowing it will be as empty as chewing on water.

I open my mouth
letting it flow out of me
dribbling down my front
soaking into my skin.

It streams from every pore
like so many tears
until I am dry
parched and cracking.

I expect it to be gone
to feel better, lighter.
To make room inside me for
something.
something.
something more.

And where disappointment used to sit
fat and gloating
now there's just numbness.
A big, empty numbness
A tight, hard nothing
Tasting of pennies.

Do you know?

I went to work today, even though I could barely drag myself out of bed.
I did payroll and data entry and manager stuff, even though I wanted to get back in bed and pull the blankets over my head.

I went to dinner, and the library, and I came home, even though I wanted to run down the street naked and screaming.

I worked really hard at being sane. Did you see me, pretending not to be crazy?

I imagine you in your not-heaven
sitting on a chair made of clouds
drinking a pint of the angel's piss that passes for beer
turning on the TV into my world and watching me zombie around
and I wonder if you know.

Do you?

Ten years...

Ten years, four hours, and fifteen minutes ago you ended one life and changed the course of another.

Five years ago, I married your best friend.

Four days ago, I realised that I am the age you were when you stole yourself away from me.

Today, I am glad you came, and that you left.