The way she holds her hands up from the counter of the bar when she’s had too much to drink, or how she tells me she’s fine without her eyes opening. It’s the little things, always the little things.

 

The pieces of the puzzle missing,

of a portrait,

of a person that I will not soon be forgetting.

How I’m hung up on a hangover and her voice playing over and over makes me nauseous like the bottom of my beer but from alcohol as much as fear.

I watch the bar lamp cast your shadow in a barely lit room, how beautiful you are, though.

 

As my hand trembles to get these words on the page, I can’t help erase your face so I continue to write in pen because I love the risk of permanence.

I often wonder what you think when you look at me. Do I look better than I think? Or do I look like a man of defeat?

 

I wish I could be everything you need but tonight I’m just some drunk kid at a bar with a lonely heart.

 

I fit in more now than I ever have anywhere else.

I am feeling more now than I’ve ever felt.

I’m clinging to the walls asking for help, but you need time to yourself so just leave me on the shelf. After all I am just a shell.

Have a good night

And keep well.

 

Garrett Wheeler is a third-year advertising major. He enjoys writing in his spare time but never viewed it as anything more than a hobby, until an advertising professor at SVA told him that he had great copywriting potential. He has since focused his career on being a copywriter.