I sat in the faint golden glow of dawn,

with the sunlight kissing my torn lips and the chilly mist caressing my face.

“Ah old friend, I have been waiting for you," I whisper as a man comes out from behind the mighty old oak,

Dressed in a satin black suit and a white shirt underneath, he sat by me on the ground.

Putting his cane aside and taking off his gloves, he pulled his pepper hair into a gentle bun, and smiled at me with his warm, healing eyes.

“I don’t have much time you know,” I said as I poured him the same drink for the last time- a glass of my finest bourbon with a hint of my blood.

“Is this going to be like all the other times? I speak and you smile? Of-course it is," I continued to speak, pouring out more of that bourbon and my heart, straight into his cup.

I told him my woes, of the memories that came to me again, of the old cuts I had washed away that still ached just the same- the people who didn’t stick around, the chances I didn’t take, the memories I didn’t make.

I told him the sweet childhood tales, the lullabies and the nursery rhymes I still like to sing in the shower and the feelings I loved- the sweet taste of oranges I grew in my garden, every scent I ever remembered, every fantasy I ever wondered.

From dusk till dawn I spoke, of every memory that haunted me, and every one that comforted me,

The golden glow of dawn became the silver sheen of nightfall and the grass on the ground grew around me, calling me to slumber.