Poem: Heart in the Garbage

I Like Her Too Much. Even the AWKWARD moments are GOLDEN. I should have called it off sooner and gained some sleep. But she's a gentleman. And I'm wild. Now it's past. Roll over on the bed. I know you are unhappy too. I hurt to think I've hurt you. All is said and done. I hurt to think I've hurt you. I won't message you tomorrow. Or Sunday. The Venice streets will cure my blues. Asprin will cure this headache. Books can take away my boredom. I cannot stand this ache to forget your name. Why keep secret when you can tell someone? Something? Everyone? Everything? Maybe staying at home was a wretched idea. Dim the lights and break out the good cogniac. Play with the lighter. Drink black coffee in the morning; eat nothing. Listen to music that reminds me of her blessed way. Smoke. Die, whatever. It's totally lonely in this place. That's Why Poetry!