As I step out the door into the gravel lot I can feel the coolness in the air of the coming fall It will make itself comfortable here for the next few months
Looking down into the gravel I see white and cork cylinders strewn about Cigarette Butts These are our stories Some would say our *******
Our day becomes more bearable when we are able to share stories in the time it takes to smoke a cigarette Maybe I should take up smoking
There are a years worth of stories back here My only fear is that they will not last longer than the cigarettes
Puffy eyes, stayed up late That's what they say Broken window, glass in the seat Who would want an empty bag anyway? Manners lost, nothing but hate and strife. I hate when people can't even act in real life.
In the dark we clutch our coffee half as tight as we clutch each other Breath escaping as puffs of steam as we are illuminated by the icicle lights that float above Davis Street Frozen in time, we should only be so lucky
Let's grow old together and raise a Christmas Tree Farm
I might be waiting at line for Coffee It's 2014 and I am in Starbucks But when "As Time Goes Bye" plays on the speaker I am at Rick's If only for a moment
Put that song on repeat We got comfy under my sheet A night at the bar When you could still puff a cigar Oh the stuff I think, when I use my skull meat
I think of you and it shows I try to write poems but they come out as prose I play it cool, keep it close to the vest But DOOM said it best She winks rainbows