The bartender says “It’s time to go”
“Because the moon has clamored high
And the sun was banished low.”

They were only speaking to me
I raised my glass, took a swig
belch, “i’m not even empty.”

They grab and toss it in a bin
The crash of glass, the waste of gin
Pollutes the air and that is when

They spoke. It was stern it was cold
“Get out right now! Before I leave
Your chest all gaped. Your chest all holed.”

“I’m a patron,yet you’ve decided
To push me out into the darkness
Lonesome and unguided”

“There are other bars out there,”
“No need to bother us, They said
I bit my tongue so as not to swear.

I made a choice, a simple choice
To sit and stay at the counter.
I cleared my throat and raised my voice:
“Do what you must. Let it occur,
But understand this, we will not be deterred.”

And if you choose to stay,
Mark my words:
"I AM LOVE; and my love will not stray."
My breath is like the wind; my lips are the sky.
Be careful where the words of lighting strikes,
Love will not die.

Pulls a cigarette and lights it up
“They are gonna **** you those sticks”
Yeah well tonight I don’t care
That’s what I’m here to do
Inhale it up and let it out
Close your eyes and start the count
Then you drop the gun
Cry tear after tear
God gave you life and you were going
To give it all back.
This isn’t the end but maybe soon
You realize you are only here for her.

Fog lays like a pale figure in an uncomfortable chair
languishing
and I lay too
with a full heart
under a duvet
yet awake in the dark
as the electric fan ticks away in the corner
and on the street there is no one
not delinquent teenagers
not stupefied drunks
not star-crossed lovers in the cold

just the vapor in the air
too lukewarm to form hoarfrost
too cool to disperse

the streetlights are refracted into orbs of blue light
hanging with a soft buzz
over wet asphalt,
beacons for no one,
no thing.

I can't tell you what it's like to feel like dying.
I can't tell you how I'm so afraid of death but I play with it like its a childhood friend.
I can't tell you what it's like to cry yourself to sleep for the 47th night in a row.
I can't tell you how I feel when I wake up screaming in the middle of the night.
I can't tell you, but I can show you.
I can show you what it's like to feel like dying in my playful smile and dull eyes.
I can show you what it's like to be afraid of death but play with it because I have scars on my body but I refuse to go to a funeral.
I can show you what it's like to cry yourself to sleep for 47 nights in a row by my blood shot eyes and bags underneath with tear stains covering my pillow.
And I can show you how It feels to wake up in the middle of the night screaming by the empty Xanax bottle in the bottom of my purse.
I can't always tell you the things that are going through my mind, but you can't say that I never showed you.

After that night the bags under my eyes never went away and streams of white hair made their appearance.
My insides felt like they were planning a revolt and every bit of humanity I had left vanished with a siren like shriek.
My tears felt like acid and the carpet still looks bleached where they fell from the waterfall on my face.
My breath had been stolen by the two ton weight on my chest and I didn't want it back.
My heart had proclaimed its demise because surely nothing can strive after being torn in two.
My eyes wept, my mind wept, even the hands that you used to hold so dear have wept.
After that night my fear has never went away, and even with death, my love never will.

*Some broken hearts just cannot mend.