waiting

"I live with demons. I got demons"
"Well, cast them out!" Z exclaimed matter of factly.
"I know, I know, but I love them."
"Yes, I know." He added in sincere understanding.
"It's arrogance, I believe i can change them."
Z sighs. "I know. I love Satan."
"Exactly."
"God doesn't hate anyone. I believe I can simply stand up to them." I can't. No one stands up to demons and survives. Not as a drunk and not with this anger.
"I'll cast them out," I stated and with a brief glance I connected with Z scanning his tattoos. 13. The demon. The skulls. The fire. They lived with him too but he cast them out for the sake of his boy.
"I don't know. I don't know your job. I don't have a son."
"Uh, Daniel," the boy interrupted, always listening, observing, patting himself on the forehead with his palm. "Duh. Me. I'm your kid. Papa says I have two daddies."
I stared back with the biggest smile and barely able to breath.
"You are," I said in fact, still drunk from the wine. "You are... amazing," I added barely able to contain it.

I called her up, S _ _ _, and cast out the demon. I used her words, "You are a bad person." "You don't deserve my love." "Be gone," I added. "Fuck off." "It's your burden." And I turned in bed like I'd lost a limb. Like the devil, retreated with half my skin and bones. Like my entire right side was taken. But her other words stuck too - "Why can't you let it go. Everybody knows." Who's everybody? This is my deficiency. I can't know this behavior. I don't know this, simply can't see it. "Why don't you know this? I don't know this," is my silent response. "Bah! gay." And I move out to see Buttercup on the bicycle in the rain. Past houses, past luck, past bars. Wretched soul. "It's a wilderness, the ocean," like a mantra in my mind. An illumination from K, my mother-in-law for a few more days. All of this is a wilderness, I imagine, like the ocean. The reason I like to be near it. It's a wilderness.

I looked down, there was an Ant - I squashed it savagely thinking of Abbey and the stone hurl that killed the rabbit.

I went to piss to piss and squeezed a zit from my cheek and yanked a stray hair from my ear then squeezed the zit again, the fucker, like a madman. It popped out till blood and dabbed it with a hard napkin.

"Do you want another round?"
"No."
"Really?" Buttercup replied.
"Really. I know my limit, I'm not a real alcoholic." Even though I am. "I won't be able to process it. If I don't, I won't be able to write and I need to write."
The bar music blasted Pink Floyd in through the shattered outdoor speakers - "Breath. Breathe in the air. Don't be afraid to care. Leave but don't leave me..."
And we listened to the conversations around us, knowing our connection, waiting.