Going to Nick's...naked

Every night,
After my work was done,
I would shower
Letting the water
Rain down on my head
Drag through straggly strands of hair
And wash over my back
Letting it rinse away
The dirt and grime of the day’s work
Then I would take a walk
Downtown to Nick’s Tavern
Find an empty booth
And sit there for hours writing.
Just writing.
Writing until my fingers hurt
And my wrist ached
And my heart bled
And my mind was so full
Of jumbled-up words
That ran together so much
That I couldn’t even think straight anymore.
And the only thing that could ever heal me…
Didn’t want me.
What was one supposed to do
When that happened?

I always left Nick’s early too.
Around eight or so,
Making sure they never saw me there.
I never wanted my friends to see me like that.
I had been avoiding them.
Seeing them
In their happy pairings
And lovely couples
In their easy friendship
And light banter
Was more than I can bear
And more than I can admit to bearing
So I always left early
Taking my heartache
And silent musings
My naked emotions
With me
(And like me)
Away into the night
And lost unto the world.