Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: The Last Time That I Died Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Monday 1/30/2006 11:23:00 PM

The smash of the moment as we intersect. Full brake. Face to the windshield. Awash in broken glass and folded metal. These are the costumes that we wear. As we live collision after collision.

Drive me. Into every blindspot we have. I never wanted to see. Just to feel the impact. That need so urgent. Every day the last day of our lives.

Pendulum thoughts. Thinking too hard. Counting everything lost. Tick. Leave. Tock. Remember me when I'm gone. As if I ever wasn't.

Hour after hour bleeding through their bandges. Every night so red. And I think too much. Because that is all I'm left with when.

There's no poison in this drug. Such temporary evils we exist upon. As every chance we stole from each other. Borrowed love.

And I think too much because thinking is all you left me with.

It's so easy to kill yourself by putting the blade in someone else's hand. And they'll never know they weren't the reason.

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