Monday 11/28/2005 12:00:00 AM

empty paper tubes
stand guard at the edge,
as the moon stretches its jaw
wider until;

bending as you reach in
to feel what's left,

that window doesn't
open anymore, but it
stays closed so well.

those words don't
mean what they did then,
as moist fangs tore
into still warm flesh;

accomodating as it did
to fit your world inside it,

thinking the moments
would eventually reveal
the reasons i'd missed.

we met in our silence
and we never left,
we followed our paths
as they disected;

when you'd close your eyes
i'd look for what i'd
not been able to find in them.

i never found it,
but sometimes i still look.

2 comments:
Anonymous said...

i am the one with the alcholic boyfriend, or had the alchoholic boyfriend. it all ended yesterday with broken glass, ripped pictures and broken dreams. he went away for the holidays alone. i went to see him for a brief moment and the ex calls who was where he was for thanksgiving, then he lied about it. not really a new thing. i saw a coward yesterday. they get the best of him, i get the stale crumb. i cannot anymore. i feel so weak to have trusted and loved so much. i want him to hurt like i do, but he just sat there smugly with a big "fuck you" on his face. how do i begin again...

alcoholic poet said...

i'm very sorry to hear that.

don't think you should seeking counsel from me though.

but we all know, the hurt goes away after awhile, if we're just patient.

take care.



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