tonight

tonight i sit stranded, staring
upon the red can, once filled with sugarglory
now empty and still, and still empty.

tonight i sit stranded, eavesdropping

to ants talking, murmuring. lamenting

the death of one of their own

for the sweet crystal made him high

and that from the height, he fell.

tonight i sit stranded, wondering

why memories have to keep on persisting

for the encounter is so brief but the dream everlasting.

tonight i sit stranded, asking

how can the clock keep a smile on its face

when each stroke of its hand signals a beginning of an end.

tonight i sit stranded, wishing

one more smile,

one more hug,

one last time.

tonight i sit stranded, waiting

and the sandman spreading

his dust upon the room

and the air becomes heavy:
i waited too long for a time that will never come.
and i don't know what the answer is
and i don't want to hear the truth
and all i want is to forget
and all i want is to fall
and all that i can do is to pretend

as long as i'm drunk, nothing else matters.

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"Tonight I Can Write" By Pablo Neruda
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example, "The night is starry
and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.
"The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is starry and she is not with me.
This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.
Another's. She will be another's. As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.