Broken hearts

Broken hearts come to me, gather at this table for two, we have from drugs to alcohol and I have from my poetry to the photos to burn. 

Come to me that I have damaged arms to lie to you about the future, come, that your tears don’t burn me and we can put your heart in the freezer.

Anyone who wants a few years of mourning while a cold tea is passed with a stream of rum, come tome, we'll be fine, I‘ll close the blinds and the windows that our eyes are sensitive and we have this fear of heights that won't go away for decades.

Come, that I have the same tongue that those who don't succeed without tripping over the same name and have this tic that doesn’t know where it came from, although it always comes with the dead. 

Stay awhile, a year, a month, a life, that there is no Judge here, there is no God to forgive us in our hatred.

Here, there is only a group of desperate people who have erased chats with the echo of their voices. 

It’s a sad club of people who have a heart that beats in lost hands.

Ta.