on top of napkins

forks spoons and knives
from the east village
to long beach
days look different
different agendas
i find myself missing those momented years
i wanted so badly to leave behind
praying on "this too shall pass"
and pass it has
what heartbreak bestowed upon me
arianna meet irony

when given a new day
it's funny how quickly we adjust
so funny i fogot to laugh
left that smile somewhere right next to
those salty tears drowning in bob's lake
knocking on doors i once had the key for
asking permission to hold your hand
to spend the night
our break up becomes a thing of art
a song and a documented poem
a test of emotional tolerance
walking on a threaded boundary
slipping on residue left from yesteryear's memories
such comedy!
wrapped in a lake of tragedy
never could figure out how to hold on to water
not when the water is the container

so spill on me tragedy!
spit hail on me irony!
then leave me in this hell
raging words
sexing prose
standing outside
hugging rain
the perfect soulmate to pain
silly lamented dame

forks spoons and knives
what a fucking life