Friday, September 6, 2013


after a quick, small, late-night talk by jake kilroy.

we carried the heartbreak with us.
we had enough honor to not drag it,
and we had enough sense to not name it.
but it was with us, tucked away in our chests,
sweating inside our shirts in the summertime,
as we ran our mouths broken in every venue
and smoked everything with promise to kill us.
it was forever a death squadron season here,
in our youth.

there was no tragedy in the heartbreak.
it had hardened our nerves,
but only to love harder.

we were ruffians accordingly,
posed and well-mannered,
though destroyers entirely.
we salted our wounded tongues
every evening under the moonlight.

so our dance shoes never saw daylight,
and our flowers only grew after sunset.
the world was open and free and available.
all we had to do was show up for the taking.

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