suicidesmitty

Between cherry gas lights and forlorn bows
the bemused girl with the flower knows
that the truth lies in the details
and sarcasm derails the smiles
leaving an awkward, sticky silence
hanging between us.

Fumbling straws
and a hurried round
of narcotic draws
to erase transgressions
to deaden emotions
to make it ok to push forward again.
and so I do.

My crude advances leave us glistening at daybreak
and the long walk home in yesterday's wrinkled shirt
with blue eyelids and shades in the twinkling sunrise
brings stares from crisp morning commuters
catching noisy city buses spraying me
with yet another dose of poison.

And it's not too long before I realize
that even if I don't die from this wretched feeling
I'm not going to see you again.

and that's just fine with me.