You drank my mind

as I drank my wine.

Then I switched to rum,

and you got me drunk.

Looking for the right thing to do

always seems to play it wrong.

Twist on the borderline is what I do

with skills of loss, and hurt, and gloom.

Sometimes I wish I was blind

to what you had in mind.

But I am only an empty glass of yesterday.

Still I have to make it through the day.

August 2015