how you doin’?

I’m enveloped in a cloud of smoke

hoping it’s big enough

to dull my heart

even mezcal wasn’t strong enough-

if anything it just made me miss him

more.

 

If I could talk to him

I would ask

“what are you doing, amore?’

But broken hearts speak like strangers

his words now so carefully arranged

so as not to tear me apart

which is ironic

because it’s much too late

for such niceties now.

 

But hey, that’s ok

maybe this is just what I needed

to get my creative juices

flowing.

Lord knows I’m no stranger to pain.

So I welcome it in.

Tell it I missed it,

even though I was hoping

we’d never see each other again.

Categories Creative Writing, Poetry, ProseTags , , ,

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