Tonight, months later, I lay here accompanied with only
The leisurely winds teaching my cigarette smoke to dance
And a rage as present as the hole your father put into your playroom wall when you were five.
Did you mean a word of it?
The night we spent together on a stranger's front porch
Because their car wasn't in the driveway
It was you, me, and that bottle of whiskey you'd stolen from your mother's liquor cabinet.
You were tracing the lines of my palms
Whispering promises into them
Until intoxication brought us slurred words and sleepy eyes.
Since that night I've wondered if mountains would choke
On the echoes of me screaming your mangled promises into them or
If the trees would suddenly blush in shades of gold and red; a temporary Autumn.
I never knew how it felt to drown until you left me choking on the sound of your name.