The vines have curled themselves around
the window frame --
you know the ones you planted
last year while you lived in the spare room
and ate your food out of the can.
With your boots that were never tied
and those damn t-shirts of bands
that no one would ever hear of

because they closed that grimy cafe
and its dollar drafts and open mic nights.
No more attempts at local fame
with the drop-outs and failed thugs,
You don't have to stop dreaming
but you can't dream here.

That's when you bought the revolver
and started mind fucking every
skirt that walked down the same block as you.
I bought you a box of blanks and
learned to take the subway,
whispering to myself with every step
I love you I love you I love you.

11/21/2011

Posted on 11/21/2011
Copyright © 2024 Meghan Helmich