Richard (And A Self-Portrait) Poem by Bryan Riley

-And he sits-
-all alone-
-in the dark-
What the hell is
he waiting for?

He numbs his
senses with
alcohol while
his misery
hangs about him
like a pall

'Sad and lonely
sad and lonely-
Won't somebody
come and set
me free? '

Another
self-created
prodigal who
will NOT
be saved

We are the
fabricators of
our own distress,
then, for it only
stands to reason
that we can't be
made to feel
ANYTHING
without giving
consent...

And yet, what
do we do when
we have woven
our tapestry of
pain, and it has
grown too large
for any vessel
to contain?

We die a slow
death, mixing
poisons, hoping
that with one more
drop, we'll reach
that sacred space
where the
whispered voices
in our heads
simply
-stop-