Last Call.

I sit in these bars late at night
drinking
waiting
wondering
holding down bar stools
breaking up fights
holding hair above foul toilets
praying to unknown gods
singing
crying
laughing
wanting
nothing but to hear your voice.

I hate this place.

like a tortured moon shining dim blue light
wanting nothing more than
the sun
to
rise.

Andy / Wilmington, NC 3:30 AM Saturday