All the fortune cookies I crack open
keep requesting me to buy more drinks;
I’m wasted enough as it is
on love sickness and loathing
to warrant any further toxicity.
I breathe in the fumes of stale cigarettes
from the poltergeists of patrons
at the bar, and I wonder, how much longer
must this pain continue, until I join them
for a smoke and a six pack?
I learned long ago, I match the prerequisites
of every woman I fall for, and yet,
feverishly meet with refusal every-time.
Feeling like shit is my day at the beach,
and this here is just another vacation,
reminiscing on the succulent sex
I could be enduring, during this moment
of agony. I am never in front, always posterior,
and I wonder, how many drinkers here
could say similarly?
I’ve fallen so hard on too many occasions,
I surprise even myself with such resilience,
these hands, ladled with the dirt,
of dusting my body down so often, for if Humpty Dumpty
could not be mended, how can I still remain
alive? A hundred years have already been shaved
off this battered heart of mine,
and if I were a kitten, my nine lives,
would have been forfeited eons ago.
It’s easy to be cruel when the space
reserved for love is left vacant, despite the implied
promises made in the moments when your lips
met mine. With barely a glance, I experienced
a life-time of love, turned sour by bitter regret.
Had I known the ending would dramatize
every conclusion I’d previously suffered,
I would have spent my youth plucking the fruits
of other would-be potential.
I spent too much time on our life together,
planning our every encounter, and now here
I sit, gasping at ghastly air, wasting the tears of today
on yesterday’s sorrows. If only I knew
how to quit you. But in the moment you turned
your back on our future, and cursed me to never
forget, I found myself unable to vanquish
the beauty you once prescribed me,
and though it is gone, I revisit our memories,
minute by minute, in the time capsule
you nestled inside my cranium.