8 Seconds On a Bull Named Eternity

You've been slithering your way into my teardrops since I learned how to 2-step to the sounds of hearts breaking. I've been cutting ties with your ghost with every bar tab I've skipped out on; When I get back to the car, I have to wipe your breath away from the rearview mirror. The x's, and the o's of your misshapen longing. Your cutoffs are still in the back seat. Muddy. Abandoned. I can't bring myself to get back there and purge the memories of what I know we left at the creek bed. You always said to never say "Goodbye." That meant forever. And, you couldn't handle that. But I've been whispering it into whiskey bottles for the past week. Hoping you'd come and slap the dog out of me for letting go of what you said was more than just 8 seconds on a Bull named Eternity. It's been one God damn wild ride, hun. But, you're still gone. And I'm tired of the blisters on my hands. Tired of holding my breath, and waiting to see which direction you're gonna buck. I'm laid out. Holding my ribs. Praying you'll be broke when the Sun comes up. That you'll bloom in the Light, and let it wash away the grit that makes you hate the way you do. The way you dig in your heels when anyone tries to pull you in close enough to cradle your fragility. Honey. I know you're wild. I love you for that. But, the clowns have been trying their games of distraction. No holler or git- No loud colors seem to do any good. Them horns are coming straight for me. And I don't think I have it in me to move. -James Kelley 2018