Dearly Beloved

I've called your number 20 times today.
You said the same thing, "You've reached Todd, you know what to do."
But I don't...
Yesterday we were walking hand and hand.
Water rushed in between our toes.
We made love spontaneously under the moon lite.
In the cold.
You were my hi and I your lo.
We didn't need drugs.
'Cause, if crack could make you addicted....
I was hooked.
Your baritone voice gave me chills.  Smooth out the wrinkles in my jeans.  
You were amazing.
Warm kisses on my neck and other places.
I was in a bliss, but it wasn't Dairy Queen.
I still smell your cologne.  L'eau D'issey  By Issey Miyake.
It's on my skin; like your warm embrace.  
God save me.
'Cause If this is love.  Death could never be my calling.
And hell is not an option.
Forgive me.  
Though you said revenge is mine; I'm Dyslexic .
I disagree.
But it's tomorrow.
I'm here.
Our last date, but it's not a date at all.
More like a meeting.  A congegation or an inevitable thing.  But there's no choir.  
We are not alone.
Not intimate.  Not talking.  It's crowded.
I told you, I don't do crowds well.  But they insisted.
I saw you.  
Cars lined along the streets.
Men and women walked to different beats in dark suits.
Yet its spring.
Fall is still another six months away.  
I wore green.  You told me it was your favorite color.
And it's not any kinda green, but the one that reminds me of baby toads with wet legs an amazing sheen and webbed feet.
Innocent.
Dearly Beloved...those were the first words he spoke as he took the pulpit.
His words tore through me like a sword.  Ripping my heart out my chest.  
I couldn't breath.  My palms were sweaty.
You laid in front of me in a tight a*s suit, but you didn't notice me.
I blew you a kiss.  And you gave me a smile.
 In my mine...' cause that's how I will remember you.
Metal cassings surround you.  
Tears and snot fell from their faces.  They wept.
Your family.
 Yet Jesus wasn't hanging from the cross.
No criminals are to the right or the left, but they should be.
A life taken prematurely.
Jerry Bruckheimer might have set up the scene, but it can't save him now.
Shots were fired, but unlike Neo.  He's still in the Matrix.
The last one hit him.  He took it  like a hero.
Stay tuned for the sequel...Revenge, served cold.  
This is the balance for the injustice delivered by this evil.
Dearly Beloved.
I miss you...

Reviews

[BLACK PRINCE]

i GUESS THIS IS THE UPS AND DOWNS OF LOVE.
I GUESS THESE ARE THE MEMORIES OF AN OLD FLAME.
I GUESS THIS IS NOSTALGIA OF YESTERDAY
I GUESS THIS IS A BELOVED FACE AND NAME