Ramblings (1)

Please turn me on mute  
so you can't hear me  
when I'm in a foul mood and back on the drink,  
when my words are cheap and hard to stomach  
- no one gives two shits anyway.  
   
The first man didn't do me in  
but he gave it a damn good try and for the few years he had me, I refused to cry.  
Again, I drank and smoked and I survived to wake up and write it all down.  
 
If I fall that low now would you brush my hair and trust I need someone who truly cares enough to give me long,  
hot,  
half-meaningful stares between the sheets of a warm, blue bed?  
 
I'm not prepared for the past conversation anymore,  
if you want I'll pack my case full of woes that we've got in store.  
I'll kiss my lips to one last cigarette before leaving it all in a ditch.  
 
We have a place ahead where the water is green and the space around us is 'city-clean' and the drama's up-north, all still quite obscene, I'll hold onto that for now.  
 
And he and I, well, we don't plan ahead like two bunnies in the headlights that are dodging death.  
I've never minded because I'm easily led by his hi-top, size twelve shoes.  
 
 
Dedicated to 'Frank Turner If ever I stray'and to him.