a lonely 4th

is what i deserve (im thinking)
as i traverse an open field
of gun powder
smelling her
through my skin
the lights were bright
my heart was dull with guilt
liquor is not my friend
i took the last bus home
2 am
woke up with gum
on my neck
maybe someone spit on me
i wonder if i had been awake/
would it have mattered
liquor is not my friend
voices of disappointment
ring in my ears
i'm afraid of silent rooms
of windows
some couple kissing
as the sky exploded
i watch them,
dreaming of lips
so sweet they linger
in the air of memory

what i had
what i gave away