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Picture Credits:
My fingers burned in destructive fervor,
itching sting of poisoned ivy
As I touched the glossy linen envelope,
I wanted more than anything to
rend it end to end
Feel it howl in pain and torment
as I displayed its inner contents
Like an animal killed in violent bloodlust
Euphoria and depression
closely knit in love's confusing spectrum
I don't deal well with either one,
so I slowly twist the bottlecap
On the blue-glassed Bombay Sapphire London Dry Gin
And pour myself a heaping glassfull,
it hits my stomach with no sound
Floods my spirit and my mind
with strength to see me through
Walking past the double windows,
cigarette in hand
I see helicoptered leaves,
twisting, turning, falling to the ground
Scooping up my razor sharp surgical scissors,
can't forget my heavy duty crystal ash tray
Reciting what I feel
in these strange unsettling minutes
The precision of he loves me, he loves me not
I haven't taken your silence lightly,
although I've been living solitary
Think I'll hold your letter prisoner for a while,
it will do as ransom payment
Scraping my match on the striking surface,
it flickers in the fading dusk
Holding the flame to my tobacco, inhaling deeply
Then slightly running it near
to what you might or might not have said
Your words scream out in terror
because they know what's coming
As I nip the edges one by one,
then faster strip by strip...
they quickly flutter down
I'll raise a drink for you and me...
for old time's sake I pour enough to
let the ink bleed through
Your letter seems to like the taste,
can't get enough...
it's not long till it's besotted
Three on a match is not bad luck for me,
and I bid you sayonara and adieu
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