Hot pepper nightmares come clean, sobering cleanse to it. Drunk  
you delete from tiresome attachments, and your Friend's List.
Wino's duplicitous failing, while crowing away her merits for giving  
up crack, glugging down another. Harm reduction is not to be  
confused with sobriety. Don't get me wrong, I am not a tea-totalitarian, but I can see when a ***** is shoveling away.

This one I will miss. Most endearing has been this lioness' steamy exhales. Roasted internet exchanges, and toasting of overall thermionic lifestyles. She was a good one, reliable and dedicated to truth-telling in that sneaking-in tall-tales fashion. Yet, I can't sweat it out any longer. Her heat scorns clouds of sizzling pollution. When one is roasting the hottest of hot peppers, it can become hard to breathe. She needed to be taken off the grill, for sake of my own sanity.

Perhaps, I'll re-visit her, after she's been bottled up and cured.

My eyes aren't the kind you'd write a song about
         no deep lakes of hazel to fall into

My beauty is nothing that would keep a tortured poet up at night
         nothing to compete with the spellbinding beauty of a harvest moon

My smile will never be anyone's reason to hold on
         nor will my soul, nor will my heart

No one will ever wish they could dive deeper into my mind
         for there is nothing of interest inside

I will never create anything with my hands
so mesmerizing
         as to make someone give me a second glance, a second thought, a second chance

All I can offer is passion and naivety
         and I'm sorry darling, because I know that was never enough

I feel like if I were in one of those alternate universe stories where you have the name of your soul mate or a timer counting down to the exact second you meet your soul mate, I would be one of the faults. I would be one of the flaws in the system. I would be the one person who had their timer run out, but the person I had just met still had three years left on their's. I'd be the person to have a name on my wrist and that exact person had a name that wasn't mine. I just feel like I would be the bug in the system that had no solution.

Tell us your witty tales, bard
Don't leave us whimpering and suffering
On the other side of this pale, pitiful, world
Tell us anything to ward off the demons
Tell us something to make the ale taste better
As we swim where dreams and nightmares clash

Drench our sorrows with your songs, bard
Send all the soldiers and waifs home tonight
With wrinkled smiles on forlorn faces
Strum your chords as we gambol about
Hit your notes as we hit each other
And laugh spitefully at fate's cruel jokes