OLWG · writing

All I Have Left


So this is how it all comes down?
This is where I am now?
All I have left is

my laptop,
my words,

half a pack of smokes,
her email address,

a bottle of Mescal and,
a loaded gun

It’s a given that I will drink the liquor and the cigarettes, I will smoke
But then what? The laptop isn’t worth much – it’s loaded with music, mostly blues and jazz, all pirated

I should probably be in jail

What are words worth? I never made much money from words,
but then that was never my intention
My goal was to connect
To connect with people

Most recently to connect with her

I have her email address
I have her phone number
I see her almost daily, but
I’ve failed to connect

I should write her a letter, express my undying devotion
I should write her a poem, pour my soul onto the paper, onto the screen

I could send it to her through the ether
I could print it on 80# linen card stock –

the colour of unbleached muslin

– designed to impress

I could send it through the post; special delivery

I’ve tried all that before but no one ever cared
I’ve been dismissed as an airhead, a blatherskite, a hocicón

I still have the piece though. The flat trigger Glock and two bullets
One in the chamber and
One on the table; standing next to the bottle

I’m too scared for this shit