Coal black eyes shift
(like the headlights of a car breaking the sound barrier)
That, combined with cigarette fingertips,
burns holes in my heart. You are my hangover from last night
and the night before,
writing love notes with dirtied tissues
and broken chalk, disconnected imagery the bridge between us.
The bridge is burning.
In disappointment, I pop a few pills,
crowding them in my mouth like flies on a corpse,
swigging whiskey to burn vocal cords
that once caressed your name
(like you were something sweet)
