Saturday, April 19, 2008


In a cold syrup sweat
Trembling fingers
Clutching a cigarette
Mashing keys
Eyes squinting in the dark
To find the right words

You’re asleep a couple feet away
With a calm, porcelain face
Looking safe, feeling loved
Not knowing I've been up for over an hour

I walk out the front door and
My legs hit the ground like
Cinder blocks
Banging against the pavement
Until I get to the corner pub

I get drunk on Maker's
And solitude
While you lay
In the sarcophagus of dream

Glancing around the bar I can spot
At least sixteen girls I’d like to fuck
And I can only wish you weren’t so good me

No comments: