Welcome Home Poem by Not Long Left

I had always imagined your return
to be like that of odyssueus's.
A little world weary,
battle scared and vague,
Surfacing back into my life
hacking away my weedy woes.
That had surfaced with vigour
once you had gone.
I imagined you sitting by my side,
telling me of your tales
Like cowboys around a fire,
sipping black metalic coffee,
talking away the night.

Did the pain of not knowing
ease into a smile
when we found ourselves
in each other eyes
No
For this was not a book
that could be closed once
the word began to hurt,
Nor was it a film that could
be dissolved into nothing
but a silent blackness.
This was life, gritty and shit
You returned bruised,
bloody and broken
with a bottle of whisky
peeking out of your half
hanging coat pocket.
Without one word offered
you pissed yourself on
the 'welcome Home' mat;
collapsed in the doorway-
The one that you had left
through just two years before.