The Way Things Ought to Look/Thoughts From the Porch

[paintedfish]

The way things ought to look

Dilapidated, dim

The wind and sounds of

Rushing cars grate like a

Bow accross electric

Guitar strings, distorted.

 

I am watching the smoke

Rise like a soul burning

Held in my hand like a

fiery reminder

Of how you left my life

Made of smoke, and leaving

Ashes in your wake.

 

Each ribbon wrapping my

Leg has your name on it.

They are because of you;

They will always be mine.

The dull burning red, like

Dying cigarettes is

All I will ever have.