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{moments} suzi q. smith there are moments i remember when i started to step out you would hold me and kiss me, hard, on the mouth - you were even jealous of my cigarette habit, determined to be my only addiction there are moments when i miss you so sincerely i can nearly forgive you, bowdlerizing chapters i would rather forget, hammer out and polish a better version there are moments that bring your name erupting from my lips, abruptly as our end i'm still calling for you, still calling him you there are moments i think it would be easier if you were dead, there'd be no wondering then, i'd bury "us" with you, let worms work your flesh the way i used to, unflinching and thorough there are moments when i still worry about you – do you hate yourself enough for the both of us? do you punish yourself, or your new girlfriends? i worry about them . . . there are moments i am consumed with guilt for not giving you a proper ending, pressing firmly upon your larynx until you are no longer dangerous, until your thrashing resigns there are moments i am reminded, bitterly and completely that i love you; i slap patches of other men to my skin, it's not the same, but it helps keep me at least twelve steps away from my vicious addiction to you and as with any bad habit, the very passion between us turned to poison and you couldn't stop – and i couldn't stop you, you couldn't stop – even when i begged you to, your unrelenting fervor tore me right in two and now parts of me will always be stained the color of you there are moments i wonder if you can still smell my blood on the wind; does your memory of me make your veins itch? will it make you come calling? will i answer? there are moments i long to relapse toward your furious embrace the nape of my neck still longs for your face i remember once upon a time it was sweet |
