Wildflower Thoughts

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Dreary, drizzling Saturday night,
Looking for something to brew my blood.
I’ve been out on nights like this before,
Treaded on a few old wounds,
But tonight is the starless night
My habits can’t find their way around.

Maybe if she knew
How her wildflower thoughts
Had hit my machinery heart,
She’d have more remorse
Running around in that beating stone.
One step, another twitch in the chest,
Wandering around in this thrashing dark.
Wish I would’ve stayed in love
With
Myself
Instead.

I believe I found the right place.
A neon sign flickers above,
“Come on inside,”
“Take a dive into the mild side.”
Five footsteps and five flinches,
I’m inside and cozy like a lost mutt.
No where to go,
Nothing to see
Except a no-eyed face in the greasy mirror
Mocking me.

The place smells like regret,
Feels like immobile desperation
Unrotted zombies sulk around.
I think
Dead souls think alike
And I think I can’t feel my head
Anymore.

I drink to drown the abstract of her love
From my mind.
Watch it swirl down the drain
And then out of my ears.
Maybe then I could hear myself think
And know what I felt
Was nothing more than fluid buildup
In my head.

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED HERE.

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