Well
Maybe love
is a thing you fall into,
not a foolish thing to get talked right out of.
Deep breaths
on the Amtrak to New Orleans
with a backpack and a pack of cigarettes.
(x) Yours is the hand I want to hold
while the whole
world goes to hell.
You're the one I want to know
that it won't end well.
Somehow
you're not the well I fall into
but what's waiting when I finally climb out.
Heard before
like a shattered record,
like the shutting of a rental car door.
(And if it makes you less embarrassed,
I won't be so careless this time.)
is a thing you fall into,
not a foolish thing to get talked right out of.
Deep breaths
on the Amtrak to New Orleans
with a backpack and a pack of cigarettes.
(x) Yours is the hand I want to hold
while the whole
world goes to hell.
You're the one I want to know
that it won't end well.
Somehow
you're not the well I fall into
but what's waiting when I finally climb out.
Heard before
like a shattered record,
like the shutting of a rental car door.
(And if it makes you less embarrassed,
I won't be so careless this time.)