Heard it on the A.M

The faint buzz of Joy Division pouring out like fog on the radio
Filling up and blurring out the details of the room.
Chipped dingy painted nails
Tick, Tick, Tick
Methodically tapping against last nights semi-dented can of Coca-Cola
Now flat and unappealing.
The smell of spilt stale whiskey lingers on the carpet
Mingling with the smoke of a freshly lit cigarette.
Divided by the scattered remains of picture  &  notebook paper notes,
The anger and bitterness drifts to remorse.
The wandering gazes meet only momentarily,
And then swiftly turn away.
Like addicts the damage is inflicted manually,
There’s no one else to blame.
All the signs and proof are there to know this is destructive,
But it’s never easy to quit a habit.
Mulling over the song echoing in the background,
Each word bringing somber clarity.
“Love, Love will tear us apart again.”
As the truth rings out loudly,
The silence no longer matters...

There is really nothing more to say.