5/30

by cabbythepoet

When the dance floor found out most of me
makes its living by breaking
and not busting
(or was it bursting?)
moves, the linoleum licked
the grease from my ankles
(or was it grief?)
gathered all its teeth to say,
Take this sad boy away. 

I want to say this
happened years ago
but we all know I am repeating history
for no reason but to pass the time.
I am twenty-two and tired all the time,
but preserve the pity, please? ‘Cause
My favorite part of the day is
every. The gorgeous every
that eats things first, time
second and then, of course
men. How many men have
had their hearts for dinner
and not known it ’til the 
exit? I expect morning breath
but morning beauty is a gospel
I still have a hard time drinking
along with my coffee, along with the
cravings, along with the music
I cannot help make sad, oh
the sad music I make my own
is just too gravestone to stop
playing. If I pretend I do not need
solitude or sorrow, I am not saying
love will save me. I am not saying
the rain makes me weak, 
I am simply lying all my bones
across the dance floor like
fresh linen and there is a spring
in my step and suddenly,
I am bursting a move
that makes me
think I do not always have to
lose myself
in order to
love myself. So
will somebody please
take this sad boy away?
 

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