Poetry Drawer: lost a battle with suicide: for the rest of our lives: an old lover whistling in a graveyard: my therapist: pressing my lips by J.J. Campbell

lost a battle with suicide

the firestarter
lost a battle
to suicide

i still remember
the look in her
eyes the first
time i heard
that song
blasting
between
the neon
at the club

i had dreams
of forever

and she just
needed another
free drink

neither of us
left satisfied
that night

for the rest of our lives

i stopped believing
in love when the
woman of my
dreams decided
she’d rather have
a life without
my dick in it

of course, we
were going to
remain friends
for the rest of
our lives

until three
weeks later

she called with
the news of a
new boyfriend

i was out two
thousand dollars
and had a broken
heart that never
would be repaired

that was twenty
years ago

time doesn’t
heal shit

an old lover whistling in a graveyard

embrace
the pain

an old lover
whistling in
a graveyard

that haunting
laughter in the
distance is god

she doesn’t
necessarily
expect and
wish for your
failure

but success is
as likely as the
souls in this
graveyard ever
seeing the sun

again

my therapist

the
empty page
eventually
becomes
my therapist

i only wish
it would ask
better questions

pressing my lips

the rain touches
her lips like
tears from a
god we all
stopped
believing
in years ago

i remember
unbuttoning
her shirt and
pressing my
lips to a nipple

she started to
pull down my
jeans and i was
thankful i lived
a quarter mile
off of the road

and none of
my neighbours
could see this
part of the
property

J.J. Campbell (1976 – ?) is currently trapped in suburbia, plotting his revenge. He’s been widely published over the years, most recently at Record Magazine, The Dope Fiend Daily, Horror Sleaze Trash, Synchronized Chaos, and Chiron Review. His most recent chapbook, the taste of blood on christmas morning, was published by Analog Submission Press. You can find him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights & Goodreads