Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Morning

The crisp clear morning

brought a new hope.

The ability to restart;

to forget.

The whisky burned

as it slid down my throat,

and the cold wind

kissed my cheek as it passed me.

A clear California morning,

with the stars in full bloom

and a screaming heart.

I sat on those steps

and counted the minutes to dawn.

Until the rest of the world

woke up to this new beginning,

this new day.

And for those few precious

minutes…

The world was mine,

the stars were mine,

she was mine,

life, was mine.

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