3 Am Confessional Poem by Josh Rodriguez

there are some nights
that leave me paralyzed
by the fear of the
only certainties—

the future will come.
the past has gone.
the present is here.

so i stumble forth into
the cold and edascious embrace
of the future,

and i let the present
collapse into the past,

but the past stays the past,

and you stay gone
and i stay drunk,

being dragged through
the hazardous terrain of time
by my limpid limbs
by some harbinger of
Truth.