Call me when you’re less intoxicated

Call me when you start making some sense

Because it’s hard to listen to an angel when her breath smells like gin


Listen to me: You’re scaring me, Janie.

Your heart runs faster

Than time itself

And your hands are cold but remind me of hell.


When the smart girl loses her mind

And the dumb poet starts sounding right

There’s a problem, some kind of problem

So don’t call me up tonight


I’m breathing in the toxic fumes

I’m reading billboard signs.

But even when i’m next to you,

You seem so far behind.


Your favorite books are haunting me.

My old love poems chase me down marshall high.

It’s funny how those words linger

More than the ones you said when we would fight.


I cling to those good memories.

More than i cling to the last tear i’ve shed.

I’m afraid i’m running all out

Of bitter laughs over my empty bed.


I’ve come to the realization.

That we all lie alone in time.

Ashes to ashes, coffins far more wasted-

Than you were saturday night


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