Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

L for Love

"HE'S DEAD! HE'S F(UC)KING DEAD!!!"
She screams,
And to no one even.
He lies,
But horizontally this time,
Upon a bed of sand and sanity.
Her back pack full of his clothes,
She throws it into the water
As the waves
Push it back onto the shore.
Beer bottles
Litter the ground,
Broken glass,
An empty
Medicine bottle,
And a night of regrets,
His eyes close forever
And she cries
Times ten
Before getting up and
Leaving her footprints
Walking away from him
To swing from a tree
Where the cops
Will no doubt find her.
With cigarette butts
Lining the body,
Spit and foam
Gliding out his mouth,
The full moon
Beaming down upon
The torn bodies,
One dead,
One finding a solution.
The empty beach
Prompts waves to crash
And soon his body will
Be taken,
And not by god
Or angels,
Or demons,
Or some holy diety,
But by the angry waves,
Who were mad
Because they had just
Wiped away
All evidence of life
From the sandy shores,
Mere hours ago.

February 25, 2008
Suge


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L for Love

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