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Saturday, October 6, 2012

The fields of Austin.

the fields of Austin
never leave my soul
the breathe on my lips
turns to smoke

I wallow in the graveyard
with poems I scribbled for her
she brings a bottle of whiskey
we sleep away the afternoon

awoke by neon lights
the nightlife calls us home
after parties are the only celebrations
we get up for.

shes much so it hurts
I sleep by the fire;mile high
in hopes
she'll join to keep me warm.

when the morning rolls in
and the record still spins
we wake up and smile at each other
before readjusting;reliving the past few sentences all over again.

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