One Last Hoorah

barefoot the entire night
I have shoes
but this night calls for freedom
and a short ruffled skirt
and a white flowy top
I feel infinite
and this night is mine, mine, mine.
a night that brings old jokes
and old lovers
and a suffocating reminder
of how my life used to be.
but I don't want to think about that.

Yet in walks a part of my past
disheveled brown hair
familiar half smile
and the bluest eyes
how could I forget those?
he greets me the way he always did,
a simple, sincere
"Miss Cannon."
and I'm reminded how good I once had it.

And I know this night
that is still mine
won't end in those eyes
in those arms
with the only guy who has ever
"got" me.

it will end in the indifferent arms
of a warm body
who smells like cigarettes & stale beer.


love you.
mean it.