Last Night I lost
My fucking Mind.
Between the poison in our hands
and liquor in the other
we stood landlocked in our conversation
waiting for the words to undress.
My hands nerved hard. English
less. I said I don’t know how
to Relationship or how to Human, but
I’d really try.
And I said I want you to wreck me
because we chase Memory’s chariot.
Logically, you left.
I love you like my last cigarette
rested between my fingers and on fire for me.
The nicotine stain remains.
youkeepthemoney. 