It wasn't my Intention to Slit my Wrists and Bleed all over your Evening
She told me everything
her mutinous bruises blended well with her outfit
the room of the old town hall was filled with
tight lipped whiskey and woebegone music
everyone sweated a mawkish ego
and carried yarn
free for the taking
life stories were in flash rewind
I politely turned my head
in a moment of failed conversation
scurried out the club door and had a smoke
she straggled out
crippled
flamboyant as a top
my thoughts wrangled with the pavement
I shied down town
alone
with the yawps of desperation slowly fading
into the suicidal night
and not once
did I care to look back.
(from Pistol Whipped, 2008)
