It was killing me
I knew it
It was that simple.
But I didn’t care
If it did
It was that simple.
Life would kill you
They said
I believed them
Too.
There was beauty
In self-destruction
If you looked
At it
Long enough.
It was my
Thirty-second
Birthday
And I was lost
I was drunk
I didn’t know
What to do next.
I smoked a cigar
Because I never smoked
Cigars alone.
Tonight felt like
As good a reason
As any
To smoke alone.
I told myself
I was smoking
To celebrate,
Because it was
My birthday.
How much of it
Was because I
Had seen
A photo
Of her
With a positive
Pregnancy test
I refused to admit.
It was more
Than none
I knew it
I didn’t
Deny it.
Why did I think
Women would
Fix it
When it was
Women
Who broke it?
The cigar burned
And I appreciated it
Not trying
Just doing
What fire does
To leaves.
No explanations
No bullshit
Just ignition
Flame
Smoke.
Cause and effect.
Something you could,
I could,
Hold onto.
I typed and smoked
Smoked and typed
I wasn’t even sad.
I was just alone.
Only this time
I was alone
And I was lonely.
People I had
Once loved
Were out there
Pregnant
Not happy, perhaps
But one could never
Be sure.
Thirty two years
Yet I felt like
I knew more
When I was sixteen
Drinking a bottle
Of Jim Beam
On the rocks
At the point
Looking at
The dark water
Running from the cops
Sleeping in
Abandoned schools
But at least
I had known
What I was doing then.
Now?
No idea.
I had run halfway
Around the world
And I knew less
Than I ever had.
It seemed like
A good time
To cry
If I could
But I couldn’t
So I typed
Typed and wondered
If I had done
All I was destined
To do.
Or if I had
Unintentionally
Done it all wrong.
I bit the cigar
Like I had been taught
Taught by her father
A grandfather soon
I supposed.
No idea what it all meant
Just dates and times
And flights
And appointments
And disappointments
And people
I wanted to love
But didn’t know how to
And people I didn’t
Want to love
Yet couldn’t help
But love
No matter
How hard I tried.
There probably weren’t
Many thirty-two year olds
Smoking Cuban cigars
Writing poetry
Or maybe there were
I just didn’t know them
But if they are out there
I hoped they knew
There would be a reason
To write happy words
Soon.
I hoped that for them
Because I hoped that for me.