So where does she go when
she's been fingered and drugged,
abused and sexed up?
That's right, the end of the bar
where they'll never find her,
let alone kiss her.*

Tucked behind her right ear,
blonde hair fell as if a tear
from cheek to chin,
bowling ball to bowling pin;
stacked at the other end.

This poem is for you long-blonde-hair-behind-the-bar-girl, written down by paper and pen.

Your quilted jacket,
leather in material,
won't keep the cold out;
only a white-stick-arm
will warm, guide and
ignite you home.

Fill the wardrobes back up again        
with hangers plucked and picked from the
carpeted floor.
                        Lay the lover down amongst the sheets
                        only the whisper sweet thoughts and memos and
                        kind words in low tones
                        into her ear.
                                           Kiss her neck and grace the thigh,
                                           build
                                           up
                                           the
                                           courage
                                           to
                                           last
                                                 all
                                                    night.

I heard all your screams
I listened to your stories
I rolled with the struggles
Yet here you are
Refusing to acknowledge my existence
Depressed as I am
And you make my loneliness
Even stronger every minute of the day
So here is a letter
To mark my suicide
That your selfish actions led to
I called several people
But it's late in the night
Phones are off
Sound asleep
As I race through thoughts
Through memories
Hoping one of them could save me
But I just lie here
Blade sharp
Bottle half empty
Nuse tied tight
Pistol loaded
All I'm waiting for is a reply
A letter back
That someone will listen
But that could be ages from now
Time I don't have
Dreams I will never achieve
So I bid you farewell
As I try and end this hell
To live in a world where
I truly am loved and never ignored
Because I will be the only face
In the darkness of death
So good night
Sweet dreams
Live happily without me
          
           Sincerly,
               Robert Guerrero
               12-12-12