Everything I write just sounds like a midlife crisis.

The girls are gone,
that didn't take long,
and nobody cares what I am doing
alone at the computer on a Friday night.

I tried on some pity but
Carrie didn't seem to think it fit.

Fair enough.

I don't understand my post-war reflection,
gaunt and terrified.

Swagger takes a day off.

I'm tired of this guy already,
he's always
in my
face.