I still recal the sound of the 2 A.M. trains <br />from your open bedroom window. <br /> Nestled between a hidden life and your bedspread <br />choking on your flame colored hair. <br /> Baby I need to know if it's time to hang up my leather jacket on the rusty nail I just drove through my wrist. <br />Sitting on a wobbly bar stool, <br />I regret not smashing the bottle of jack and carving your initials into my chest. <br />Those initials you introduced your self to me as. <br />I'd give anything to go back to days where you only crossed my mind when my neck would hurt. <br />Like now.<br /><br />matt fromm<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/like-now/
