It's a day without a name. A saying
Without meaning.

It's a joke without a punchline. A prayer
Without hope.

It's a wish without a listener. A scream
Without fear.

It's thoughts,
Thoughts,
Thoughts.

It's my rambling mind
That pushes you, taking you
Away.

It's the things

We never wished

We'd said.

Since nothing
Can ever
Be taken back,

We all live with the
Choices

We've made.

Time is not a cure
For heartbreak or despair.
There's only the open road
And an uncapped bottle

Of E & J.

Alcoholic Romanticism.

The lipstick smears.
The cheap cologne.
The nibbled ear.
The ringing phone.

Instead of forgiveness,
Seek advancement.
Pursue closure.

Forget.

Forget the love you had and
Think of the love
You've got to give and
The love
You've got to take.

**** the time
Make your sign.

She said her name.
I laughed and said
It rhymed.

A wicked messenger walked
Through the swaying cardboard doors.
His teeth were as yellow as
Rusted over taxi cab doors. He walked with a gait
That told me he was heading somewhere an'
Couldn't wait.

"Listen to me," He said with a grin, reeking
Of a life of past sins, "I'm the enemy. I'm your man.
That's my woman you're sitting next to and," he
Bit his lip then clicked his tongue, "I want whats mine."

"Take her," I said. I looked at her smooth
Pale white shoulder, a red freckle on the tip of the bone,
"Take what you want."

He laughed.
I shot.

She stayed with me.