Haunted

Haven't slept in several nights.
Just been sitting here in my blue bedroom,
Slurping cups of cold coffee,
Chain-smoking stale cigarettes.
And thinking about Sonya.

She came to me again that night,
Tear muddled and wringing wet.
I took her in----again.

" I really meant to do it
This time.
Went downstairs, tied a rope
Around a basement pipe.
Supposed to be a noose.
Damn pipe broke
And there I sat, sputtering
In a puddle of water.
Couldn't even drown."

Her words cut the air,
Shards of glass
On bare feet in the dark,
Her voice, a fingernail
Seeking the blackboard of my spine.

I wasn't surprised:
A new variation
Of a play I'd watched before.
I gave the usual;
Tea, talk, and comfort,
But I never really looked
Until the end.

" It's okay now," she told me,
Faced me at the door.
Then I saw her eyes.
Like tarnished metal mirrors,
They reflected nothing.

I knew then.
I would not see her again.
There was nothing I could do.
Once glance told me
Sonya was already more a memory
Than a living being.
I let her go---For the last time.

Now, I sit in the dark
With this morning's coffee
And a carton of Newports
Recalled from a two year stretch
At the back of my closet.

Pieces of a broken ashtray
Prick my feet and I wonder
If I could have somehow
Gathered Sonya's scattered fragments;
Could have remolded, reshaped, reassembled
And then somehow restored her soul.
And I wonder
When I'll sleep again.