Sermons

I watching tv. Arguing with sobriety. Like I often do. I was telling myself I'd done all I could do. Trying to mean it.

The ugly in the moment always find the hole in those old containers I use to hold them. The window always looks different when I'm backing up. A mirror image of where I'm going.

He was high enough that he told me the truth. Afterthoughts sometimes come before. All that waiting. Only to never know. Who he is when no one's there.

The last sips always ended confessions with dial tones. Right then.

I knew everything about myself.

Except.

What to want.