Dressed up to the whole nine yards.

August 13, 2012 § Leave a comment

“You told me again you preferred handsome men, but for me you would make an exception.” – Lenard Cohen

Lack of years should not leave you void of grace. My pulse isn’t holding steady anymore, it’s dull, too dull. As if there is a leak in the system, and slowly, like a quiet hiss of a young boy’s bicycle tire, the life is getting out. Getting clear. Going down like a air mattress in an abandoned room of a trashed party house. Similes are coming thick like hot air. Similes and cheap jokes. My minds not holding water like it used too. What once was a bowl is now a sieve. What once was lost with water, is now found without. Still wet. No water. Fell out of a boat. No water.

I wound down the drinking, the mad, self-destruction. The appeal is lost on me for now. I think I leveled out. Last time I felt it this steady I hit the rails so hard I bounced. The bottle so hard I went straight through.

I’m too young to be getting old.



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