Tonight, I’ll get drunk on memories, and
Stumble down pathways within my soul where
Pain and despair still hide amongst wastelands
Of hope, seething; waiting a chance to tear
At wounds left unhealed by years of neglect.
As darkness grows, I cannot elude ghosts –
Old specters – that continue to infect
My mind with dreams in which I can almost
See your face and feel the warmth of your skin.
Sadly, there is no twelve-step program for
Heartbreak; no “group” to understand my sins;
And words give comfort, but provide no cure.
   Love is a vile drug. I am addict
   To this vice, and the torment it inflicts.