creatures of the mud swamps,dreaming of ships that never cross the bar—only ships in bottles, no winds, no sails,feet trapped in derelict rigging,wedged in mud and water and grain,too far to reach the distant ocean,beaten by the heat of the red sun,waiting for it to set on the blue horizon,all that is left of a …
tonight i lost my own heart
Tonight I lost my own heart.I am broken.I am sad.I am lost. You were there—a swift breath against my ear. You said,I am not fit for consumption,yet still you laid yourself downlike a sacrifice upon my altar. And I drank from you—your blood in a greasy purple plastic cup,letting youquench my thirst. Later you said …
Dixie's Road Trip 