I am the third drag of a cigarette midnight observing the moon traverse navy sky blinking stars like rain on a windshield fading in and out in and out in and
outside there is no one else for miles the world stopped to watch the smoke curl
like clouds around my trembling fingers and I don’t know when I’ll shower wash
the disease from my skin but I smell like the wafting cow dung of Calexico hot damn I’m craving
explanations giving not receiving let me write all the reasons I deserve love I
can justify my entire existence if given the chance just oh god hold me for a
second I’m sorry I haven’t slept in a while perhaps years I can’t remember
however I can almost feel a voice deep and kind like a blanket covering my
shoulders while I lie there body shaking leaving messages in Morse code and
hoping someone can tell me why I don’t just open my mouth to call back I wonder
how long it will take to find my center how can I make peace with this sickness
this sorrow I mean how much mourning can a man take come on it gets better it
has to get better right?
No comments:
Post a Comment