the thing is, all of a sudden, the years have piled up behind you
and you’re sitting there numbly for a second,
not quite feeling sorry for yourself just yet, but a little bewildered,
worrying the possibility of repeating the same processes–
someone cracks a joke, and says, (thank god)
“oh shit, do you remember when?” and for a few minutes
you’re off the hook, but really all you’ve done is push it back,
and maybe down, deeper than before, but
fuck it, keep going and devour yourself again
(practice makes perfect) until you finally
raise your fists and destroy
what’s left
burn it all down
and tip your glass again;
there’s more
been there. am there