I went west.
I stood on the dock and watched the sun fold into itself and spread the dark, dark night.
I’ve vices and virtues:
bone aches and morning afters.
She’s been up for three days,
amphetamine for energy, painkillers for numb,
and the opiates keep her from remembering she’s hungry.
I do not want her in my house.
When we were,
we were limbs and skin and loves and sky.
I went west.
I went towards sunsets,
too many, too many, too many cool morning mists,
cigarette in hand.
I went west.
and I’ve wanted the pale of her skin beneath the leather of my hands,
I’ve wanted…
She’s sky bound with MDMA bringing the concert to the ether.
Starving, naked, moonlit and dancing, because, because, that’s just what she wanted.
I went west.
The westerns had those grizzled ideals,
and whiskey soundtracks.
I’ve found myself walking drunk to the liquor store,
beneath palm-trees and lonely mountains.
I went west.
I went through Arizona deserts and red earth shapes as stand-ins for skyline,
and all, all I could do to keep my hands from the soil.
I went west to find myself,
and this morning I woke drunk,
was drunk until twelve,
seven hours after I decided to never taste again.
I went west.
I stood on the dock and watched the sun fold into itself and spread the dark, dark night.
I’ve vices and virtues:
bone aches and morning afters,
but no, no more.
This morning, through the spinning and haze,
This morning I wrote my ticket home.
And before I wrote this,
I fed the rest to the drain.
I went west, but now,
I no longer drink.
and I will repeat these words until that whiskey taste forgets itself.
