Battery Dead

Battery dead
assault and battery case
just hanging on by a thinned out thread
7 out of twelve with eight shots in
feeling grateful I’m not dead
and I’m at my wits end
a fatal moment of clarity I subjectively depend
on, codependent friend as I stopped
second guessing these riddles I write

with a faint resemblance
to my first and former repentence
finally better news to forget less
and feel more; aligned by alterations kept knowingly
in some structured flow it seems
“how the fuck?”, on Ace of Queens

at least your girlfriend’s not a fiend
or maybe she was,
but the beauty she holds has kept me rising above
empty lots and swollen hearts
known sympathetically from a synthetic start
with batteries dead,
I gave lesser fucks


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