Wednesday 10/19/2016 12:04:00 AM

gambling flesh. spending loss. like soldiers in a desolate war. we knew. we agreed. that the hurt would be permanent. or at least i did.

distance had its conceits. the absurdity of forgetting what made me whole. the paradox of wanting what was never mine to begin with.

damned by the precision of dead skin.

everything spent in curtains and memories. it's not like i had a choice. or could have wanted anyone else. it's not like i expected anything other than what i've always been.

it ended. i let it. surrendered to the loss.

but a decade later, you just had to see if  i could still be broken.

the answer is yes.

| Alcoholic Poet Home |
Copyright 2005-2024. All Rights Reserved.