Naked in the Graveyard

Just a free write...

I remember driving 90 miles per hour

around tight bends, always leading to dead ends.

In the dark of midnight

where we would strip naked and run through graveyards; taunting a death that could never be us

young, youthful, and free.

Free to dream about all of the things that we wanna be

could be

will be

oughta be

might not ever be...

but here, with you

breathing in the dark like swirling smoke off foil

the night air lifting us higher and higher until we sat on peaks overlooking the city:

Lights like legacies, leaving behind traces of magic and memories

of us.

Of this….

Drunk night, dizzy with touch, tease, cold toes curled in thick mud

wiping our faces like we were f*****g warriors, daring to face a world of wimps

because with you…I wasn’t scared.

Not then.

Not in the days that we binged on milkshakes

melting, dripping, sticky, smeared, on your backseat where you had your first kiss and

I laughed from outside of the window

glaring at my reflection, secretly wishing it was me

that you would shove your wet , desperate

wisdom inside of

leaving me like an insomniac on crystal meth.

and the days where music was ecstasy, injecting itself into the souls of my shoes until we were screaming out prayers of adolescence and insanity...

barely balancing on the edge of bridges

walking a fine line of invincibility.

Because we were.

Invincible.

Sweating palms, beating hearts, wet lips, cold nose:

You were my plans.

My Friday.

My chapel.

My secret.

My confession.

My Sunday morning and Monday afternoon.

You were my glass door, looking out and opening up to this crazy world but always protecting me from the blows.

You were my tip

sip

flip

whip

and drip...

of THE most intoxicating substance on this planet.

And now I sit

naked in the graveyard

calling your name as if my broken body and cold bones can summon enough strength to remove you from the suffocating dirt and lift you high

high

higher than the mountains that we climbed like f*****g Everest

high up into the trees that we fell from and lusted over laughter as we bandaged up each other's wounds

high like the voice that danced its seductive self off of your holy tongue and blessed each one of us like we were the worst of sins

high like the tide of your heart that came crashing down onto me, drowning me in your love, your laugh, your sarcasm, stupid socks, sexy shirts, minty breath, bear hugs, bullet wounds and bliss.

high

high

high like the devil that smelled sweet like candy

toxic on your tongue

sugar crystals that melted into your veins.

And you were high.

So high.

Higher than the bridge of addiction

that dared you to jump…

(and you did.)

 

Reviews

[Relic]

It amazes me to see such little attention given to such a great poem. For what it's worth, I read, noticed, and enjoyed.

[Coyote Poetry]

Beautiful and powerful flow of free verse. Reminded me of a Jim Morrison song. Free-riding to a dead-end and not caring. I enjoyed the complete poem. Nice ending to a outstanding read.
Coyote