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