Dying God

Take a sip of this drink. Let’s worship the green gods at the base of this glass bottle. It can be our secret.

Ours and Dionysus’.

I know, you know exactly how I feel.

I don’t need to say those words out loud for us both to believe them.

We can sit here for hours and feel betrayed as we inhale and exhale smoke, green as our near empty beers.

Remembering the moments we wished upon shooting stars, and how silly we felt when we learned what they really were.

Fragments of matter taken from where they belonged and damned to fall until they are reduced to nothing, without ever falling at all.

Oh, but they’ve found new belonging,  in the imagining minds of children here, and in fairy tales even the calloused wish were true.

It’s funny we drink and smoke here, taking things in to let them all out.  To let it all out.

We’re both so angry at the world for different reasons.  We’re so far apart yet one in the same. That’s why your eyes haunt me. That’s why I can’t shake your memory.

That’s why I walked away.

Left you with the green gods. Left you wondering how I could be so cold to you when all I seemed to show you was love. I had no choice.

We’d feel betrayed by one another.  Like shooting stars and santa claus.

I wanted to take those steps away before we solidified.

But I’ve come back this last time, to let my kiss linger after our drunkeness fades.

Take a sip of this drink.  Let’s worship the green gods at the base of this glass bottle.

It can be our secret.

Ours and Dionysus’.

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