March 23, 2016


halfway dead,
Suckin down coffee from a black old fountain,
Is a home where you lay your head?
or where your fake swordfish is mounted?

habitually I would leave the room to read but surely
a tiny little pile of dark roast grounds where I once stood just enough there to keep me safe

Rained-out, wrapped right up in our metaphorical overpriced ponchos,
endless rides home, circling the block for the whisper of a word we didn't know how to use in a sentence.

Saw you, went home, drank myself silly in the basement alone
and the spiders were showing off a sense of humor on the ceiling
spinning letters together
"I let me keep you safe".

Lost art,
lost boy,
watching a grown man drink to 11 to 11 a.(m)pire,
old joy, but everything is changing even faster than it was back
then you hold me it feels like I am finally closing my eyes after a year and a half long day
and I am tired as hell and so close to you, know that you keep me safe.

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