China white

Who would know?


My last words to a dying thought of young love


She learned all her advice from movies and kept her addictions in lockboxes


I became a way to find a fix


I made assumptions as fast as a needle can make the skin pop


Burgundy was her favorite word, brown was mine


Color had no value and wine was bought cheap from corner stores


I found her lipstick stains in friends ashtrays


Jealousy has never been my style, I could see the way she moved she begged for a reaction


Checkmate came easy this time, knight kills king and queen sells sympathy


Wearing wayfarers became an escape from the strobe light structure of dramatic affairs 


She turned into a bedbug in my mind, I watched her crawl out from corners and scatter at the first sign of illumination


I was waiting at a coffee shop for my true love to arrive in a small tin foil bag, while she served drinks at an Italian bar


How else do you get your kicks on a Saturday in Mid-July?

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SSmoothie's picture

I very much like ur style its

I very much like ur style its got that sense of pervading irony and tensions between the juxtapositions nicely done, very dope! HugSS 

Don't let any one shake your dream stars from your eyes, lest your soul Come away with them! -SS    

"Well, it's love, but not as we know it."

allets's picture

Heroin Epidemic

This poem is topical. Tea bags and tin foil ~allets~