Alone
Sometimes I wonder
why I feel so alone
when really I’m not.
Each and every night
my demons show up
to haunt and tease,
chide and ride.
There’s enough of them
to drink all my beer,
play all my music,
ransack the cupboards
and freezer too.
Demons never clean up,
they always leave
trash on the floor,
dirty dishes everywhere,
movies, books, poems
strewn here and there.
They’re definitely callous,
these demons of mine,
they don’t leave till I collapse,
they never say goodnight
or goodbye,
they don’t say, “See you again,”
but they’ll be back,
and I know when.
Sometimes I wonder.
