broken heart · Freeverse · poetry · Uncategorized

You got me down (An Anthem of Absence)

You Got Me Down:

I haven’t had too much to drink the last couple days.

You got me down.

I’ve been trying to spin away from it all.

Playing  cheesy computer games, and listening to Lucinda Williams till 6:00 in the morning,

wondering if my car is getting towed.

Sick like heroin,

with you.

I rest restlessly, clawing myself in circular thought.

The rotten wisdom tooth dosen’t help,

Just wakes me back up, to wonder how you are,

If you are in the same state as me.

Loathing, but knowing the best choice is to let it go.

But you crawl around inside, despite the fact you know letting it go is right.

I wonder if I am going to be alone.

It wasn’t so bad before you came. Alone was just fine.

I never understood the ones addicted to love, or something like it.

You were my wonderful habit.

You heard me, or at least let me speak.

Now the dialogue is all internal, incomplete, or sticky camouflage

for the smoke in my lungs.

Who takes the roll of soldier and insurgent,

Who cares? It doesn’t matter.

Perhaps its just growing older, and with age comes brittle bones.

(Fuck you Lucinda Williams!

Your songs bow my back toward bottles of shiner bock, warm and yeasty.

Toward a dwindling pack of Marlboro lights carelessly tossed anywhere.

Maybee I’ll get some cranberry juice.)

I wonder if you and I would have made it?

Or would it have just been more of the same?

Unhappy, but willing to go through it for the other one.

Happy, like your comforter on your bed makes you.

Home in a portable piece of cloth.

I wonder how you are all the time. What you’re doing.  If you’re happy.

Sometimes I shout for no reason,

I’m sure in time I will smile for no reason.

I miss you, your bending hips, mischevious smile, .. and the fights too.

I’m a peacenik who walked into a war,

You are a war that walked into a peacenik,

that’s what I always said.

Maybe I’m the asshole.

Now the war is a war to keep our dingy,

White flags in the air.

Waring with ourselves,

On our two separate sides.

Hoping to win sometime soon,

But wanting so much not to.

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