it's been a hell of a rodeo
and the dust is still trying to settle
castle.printed eyelids trashed
and blinking breakdowns
like we're famous.

sometimes the tragedy is in the blank stares.
the loose lips like caramel on lonely nights.
so easy to tread on white lines
when a fix. seems fitting.


so I'll put down this glass.
and sometimes. thinking is too hard to deal with.
when your eyes stay bloodshot. my tongue
is on fire. this.
this blatant misuse of heartache.
stems from locks on broken doors. when
the keys are made of brass.
I'm tired of the metallic taste.




so I'll put down this glass.
and I'll sleep for once.

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