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
tnkerr-Writing Prompts and Practice 