“Season End”

I was bruised more than beaten
on your neighbor's front lawn.
She watered her garden
like straw on a farm.

She loved me and waited
until I was strong.
But at my weakest occasion,
she married her crown.

Every day felt like rehab on the side of my mouth,
and she kissed me like splinters at the back of a barn.

The old winter’s coming;
The one that you knew
for bringing you cruelty
and suicidal booze.

narrative poem written on 09-16-2009 by: on mattkane.com
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