by J.J. Campbell
toss the empties
in the yard
we'll wake up
tomorrow, take
a picture and
call it modern
art
not sure if it's
the alcohol talking
or the heat of a
quarter moon
but your beauty is
piercing my soul
and rendering me
helpless
and it's not that i
refuse to learn
from my mistakes
i'm simply a
romantic that
understands love
is sometimes messy,
confusing and meant
to quietly walk away
from
sometimes
in the middle
of the night
after the glow
of ecstasy has
knocked the
dust off all my
old dreams of
what could have
been
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