Vicodin lust

I meet you there

I see your face and here our laughter

We sang of mountain heights

Dreamed of Mexico

Wondering of our thereafter.




A couple of uprooted southern bells

Born with suitcases in their hands

never were what they expected

Never could follow the best laid plans.




I know we shared

Our quest for play

Our life of seeking

Our own peculiar way.




Never in us were groundings

Of love so craved

A stabilizer to soothe

Brokenness of the enslaved.



We connected on those grounds

And sparked a journey of tries

Ignorant to where we would be brought to

We mastered our disguise.




Feeling as lost as we always were

We conjured our retreat

Mountain heights

Mexico

Perpetual passive trust

Trapped in valleys of vicodin lust.



to be removed is do or die

death became fantasy

interrupted by moments of grievous play

the time did pass

everything good to be replaced.


so tired...so so tired

weak from dying

this slow death

won't you let it rain

take this final breath.


when light spoke in


and startled my plight

unfamiliar love


swallowed my fight.



a chasm of accepted grace

now separates us in every way

where you are is where we lived

you forget