I wrote a poem that
I regretted writing
with a piercing headache
fingertips still trembling
I took my phone from the end table
closed one eye
and tapped away the words
with brief stroke of removal
then proceeded to collapse back on the pillow
for another half hour of tormented sleep

with your deep brown
blue green misty eye gaze
your soft lips gently touching
my collar
your dark red blonde
hair lifting off your shoulders
dixie cup half full
half spilling onto the seat
laughter shaking us enough
to pull over pull each other
while the dashboard hums in unison
aftermath jokes only we comprehend
we speak of picket fences and lemonade
front porch parties for our families
tiny feet puttering over dirt and grass
gray hairs and soft mornings
dim light reading and early evenings
wait for us
I am simply
waiting for you

the wind resided temporarily
damp clothes held to our skin
the jack daniels bottle
orbiting our group
speaking mildly
half dizzy
we said why we loved
one another

fingertips soft - pathetic
too sober for this
you coward
reach inside that
miserable soul
produce something
how else will
you be remembered but for
the words you spoke so
swiftly in passing
with acquaintances
also too sober to write
hashtags pouring in
like wine water
eat this jesus-bread
you heathen
get back on track
**** in your gut
for another round
and get that blood
on the page

I want something other than ****
with the short shorts showing
everything
the low-cut crop top
exploring eyes wander over
on countless evenings
my imagination having nothing
left

I want smokey flannel
a two-day-old pony tail
boots stained by the dirt and grass
a hole in your jeans
that wasn't there when you found them

I want hungover-fastfood-drive-throughs
with my shorts and your tank top
wrinkled from your floor
your hair still wet from the morning shower

I want leggings, a t-shirt
and a backwards ball cap
while we sing loudly out the open window
tapping the dashboard off-beat
hand raised fingers pointing at the moon
laughing at the man that sits watching us drive

I wait for the rain to fall
so that we can run through
the world's sprinklers laughing
giving us an excuse to wear flannel
sitting close so that our legs may brush
a slight turn of the chin
may lead to a quiet kiss
while the drops patter across the earth

sometimes I wake up in the morning
and pretend I can start all over
that my forehead pounding will subside
and when I delete the messages I sent
they will be gone forever
I will work my job
my coworkers believing
I live a settled life
that I didn't drink the bar as dry as I could
or slept on a friend's couch with the girl
my friend wanted in his bed
I drink a cold glass of water
hoping it will breath life into me
and down ibuprofen like candy
the world creeps in through the blinds
and I tell myself I'm okay
I can't be too far gone
my phone vibrates and it takes
everything I have not to throw it
out the window
and drive my car east until
I no longer recognize street signs
park on the side of the road somewhere
and just be quiet for awhile
but instead I get dressed
check my watch
stumbling towards the door
because today I start all over