The bad love


Bad love

A Poem by Coyote Poetry

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Poem written in 1994 with a re-write

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The b+ad love

I felt the darkness of the night overtaking the lights of the day. Stealing away the gentleness that is left in me. The once sweet memories had turn to a cancer. Eating away at my heart and mind. Leaving a soul-less man till nothing matters anymore.

I poured the tequila into my coffee cup, cut the lemons into pieces and pray for the night to be kind to me. I drank the tequila and allowed the lemon to quiet the burn. I hope the tequila can quiet the memories of your beautiful face. I may even smile and laugh, but I’m dead and you can’t raise the dead.  In the real life. Death of the heart and the less need for human contact, is the real peace for a man who wanted everything and nothing.

Sometime women faces danced in my head. Can’t remember their names but their lips and touch are permanent tattoos on my body. In sweet dreams I whispered names of faces lost in time and space. Just memories to make me know. I was alive once.

I would do the drugs, but I would see too much than. I don’t want to see the beaten man. Standing alone and looking for forgiveness that can’t be found.

The bars and the taverns have became my place of worship. The hundred bottles of alcohol drank by me allowed me to find slow suicide. Pretty woman told me. “You must lose the sadness.” I told her. You are okay when you feel alone and safe. I like the peace of no emotions and forgetting who I’m. The cancer of disappointment left me to a dead-end. Ain’t nothing left except to wait for the undertaker.

She whispered. “The world is a beautiful place. Life isn’t slow death by drink and disappointment.” I told her. The world can be a beautiful place, but beautiful things loses their glow. Become used and abused. I have known a million kisses deep and embraced angels and devils. I learn most of us need too much or too little. I looked her eyes and I kissed her forehead. I told her. Leave the graveyard Poet alone. I will teach you to be dirty with hate and disappointment. No clean people in the dark tavern Honey. In the dark taverns. Just us waiting for the Devil to set us free.

Please Honey, find the light of hope. No hope in the tequila and wasted words by a dead man walking.

John Castellenas/Coyote

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