I was thinking...
Potential is nothing
Until it is realised.

Once donned,
This shinning suit of armour
Now lies cracked and worn
Through chemistry.
In an age forlorn of chivalry,
Good intentions turn to dust
As honour gives way to lust.

We shall do what we must.
And must do what we shall
In a shallow state of mind.
For when I replaces us,
We know all hope is lost.

gotta write
can't write
no time
gotta work
can't stop
too much to do
i can feel it
building up
hard up
hard time
hard line
hard night
coiled wire muscles
stretched tight twang
reverb spinal twitch
sets one eyelid going off
fluttering to start a hurricane
and the whole of it unravels
unless
i can get it out
get it out
get it all out of me
and onto paper
into screen
out to hivemind
out of me
out of me
out of me
one fibrous thread of
twisted steel at a time
all i need
is just a little more time
and a little room to bleed

I
left
you    
at the café while
you were in the water closet
I got on the bus,
handed the driver my last twenty
before I even asked where he was going
I saw you, through the café window
as the bus pulled away,
puffing diesel fumes
in its hissing wake
I saw you, side by side with
the gray reflection of a weathered Apache squaw
who
hunkered outside in the fading veil of smoke    
like a mocking twin who shared the glass and light
with the young you,
white princess with ruby lips
a purse full of treasured trash
and words I did not want to hear
waiting to spill from your mouth
I had been gone two years in the flying fortresses
deafened by the din of their moaning motors,
our machine gun fire
and the nightmare fighters
sent to the blind skies to escort us to hell
I counted the desperate days
and the missions I had yet to fly
until my feet could finally touch ground
and my eyes could see the light of you
then your letters said less and less
and I no longer kept them
folded in my leather coat
two miles from earth,
like the parchment talisman
I once dreamed them to be  
you had left me before
I left you, and I knew, but
‘twas easier to chew a quiet lie
than to swallow a screaming truth
I did wonder if you walked into the street,
if you asked the Mescalero lady
if she saw me leave  
though I did not look back
once the bus passed Lordburg’s lone light
nor did I long for you any longer
in the dreadful night