Moving On.

You wear the pain like a heavy mask.
Darkness seeping in through the seams of your worn down heart.
The beating grows fainter, the anguish grows heavier.
The tears trickle down your quivering face.
You fight all of those who care.
Tell them they're wrong, they don't understand.
I understand.
I know what it's like to turn to drugs.
To feel so alone in this hollow universe.
To feel like there is nothing else that you can do.
Oh my.
Bet you never would have guessed that we had something in common.
You say you can't stop.
You don't know where to go from here.
But have you even tried?
You are forty-three f u c k i n g years old.
You're a little too old to be acting cool in front of your friends.
There's a time in life, where you've got to grow up.
Realize that your childhood is over.
Move on with life.
You have people here that love you.
Your friends, they love your money.
I see right through your pathetic excuses.
For another day out on the town.
Getting a buzz in anyway possible.
We have cried, we have screamed,
We have tried, we have failed.
It is time that you help yourself in this.
I am not willing to get caught up in your lies again.
So when you are ready, Dad.
I will be here, waiting for you to return my calls.
But until then, signora, We have to move on.

© Jenna Elphick
June 2, 2006