My mouth tastes like an old ashtray.

Dentyne and beer.

She walked out yesterday and won't be back.

That much is clear.

I watch the dog runnin round.

In the backyard where we used to barbecue.

People drop in and leave things.

Casseroles and points of view.

I barely know they are there.

Means nothing.

She's gone.....

I go to the shop each morning.

Feels good just to use my hands.

Waiting for that phone call that don't come.

At home again watching that dog.

No strength to throw him his stick.

The days blur by. Seasons change.

Memories remain.

I feel lost, alone and sick.

Thoughts swirl in my head.

Is she with another?

Or is she as messed up inside as me?

Why don't we listen to what others have to say?

Till it's too late......

I can't believe.

Heartache is all that's left of ten years of us.

I want you back, I wish you'd die.

I take that back.

I start to cry.

Goddamn.....

Shuddering and sniffing back tears.

I go to bed.

Dreading another empty day.

Phil G. Inman Sr.

7/31/2010