It never occurred to me
that I cannot live
with or without myself.
I hate who I was, but I
take pride in who I am now,
but I fear who I will become.
I’ve ventured that road before
I remember the curvature
I never thought I’d be back.
I walked down to Jenny Lane
I was looking for anything
resembling who you were.
I write my own novels now
still inspired by you somehow
even if in a subtle way.
You taught me to love again,
then you told me we’d still be friends,
haven’t heard from you since back when.
I drink a fifth and then snort a line
it speeds up my heart; I’m fine,
for I turned that thing off last year.
Poetry keeps me sane,
but henna can leave a stain
like a scar on my timed out skin.
Driving over the underpass
I think back on the hurt and laugh,
for I know soon that we will pass.
Like salt on an open wound
come pouring these thought of you;
the ocean will claim me soon.
Promise me just one thing
that when I bleed away you’ll sing,
for you have a lovely voice.
I wish I could hear it now,
hazel eyes and a lullaby…
I loved you like no one else.
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