Is There Anybody Out There?

In the darkest hour, when I was but a fleeting glance, possession then dissolved in sacks of swag, the corrugated shed of livid circumstance sought to burn through time’s immemorial drag. I looked at you across the blurring sawdust sweep, sweetly smiling for your new attentive throng, your attentions were no more for me so should I weep internally and sing a funeral song? I might as well, I thought, be locked inside a box and cast into a well like some last wish, to sink unseen, weighed down with rusty chains and locks, to sleep a dreamless sleep with mud and fish. Is there anybody out there looking as you are tonight? or would that false impression not suffice? for all that I can do is blink you from my longing sight, confetti shreds and grains of coloured rice. Is there anybody out there headed for the waiting door? some replica of all your looks and deeds? to adjoin my vacant side upon this crowded barroom floor, some tourniquet to stem a heart that bleeds.