the heart butcher has found me once again tonight,
found that hidden passage so hollow now
into the torn void of my soul--
the net set still, my cave fell in & compromised once more.
you could not fail. i am defeated.
left questioning the marble days, bourbon drenched nights
heavy like the stone which sinks
in the wretched river of my veins,
the distant lost time thereafter.
thanatos comes to say hello & i shut my window instead.
tired of the game. no more nights
wasted trying to forget.
life is a ball of yarn
& i am unraveled
like a streamer.
tomorrow ends today

Finishing off the last swig of the last beer, I sit back.
All I can hear is the slow heavy, drowsy soul slipping off the notes the trumpet is playing from the small stereo – the perfect notes, hit in just such a way. The surely dark rooms where these notes were recorded. Once upon a time, somewhere somehow so far away now. A different, better world.
The view of the romantic.

“Hold me close in old – this is la vie en rose” Louis Armstrong sings. I want to be the lover of Louis. I want to be the girl who’s eyes he is looking into so deeply it almost hurts- almost tangible; “Give your heart and soul to me, and life will always be la vie en rose-” he sways again.

And then again with the trumpet- there’s nothing like it. Nothing in this world.
Not to a lonely girl like me on a Friday night.

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