Saturday, January 28, 2012

You were the reason I cried at my friend's brother's funeral

Heard someone say one time, don't say goodbye. Some good advice, for how will I say goodbye. I'm not sure. If only some mail truck could hide me for a time, in the swampy night. I wish I didn't have that dream about you trying to hurt me with a fork, it isn't how I think of you. I wish we talked more. If only some mail truck could shade us for a time, in a front yard somewhere. We always wanted the best, we were always quiet about it. Sometimes we get angry, too. There are days I drive to collect debts. Burned my hand with your cigarette one morning on the raceway infield, tongue rough from coffee burns, skin sunburned, eyes burning. Like nitrate. It's fucking stupid that we don't talk more.