October 25

My heart beats
as sweat streams
down the sleeve of my T
embroidered with Little C's
all alone the tone
of my cellular phone
condones a text which shows
the words "die slow"
and all I know
is I gotta go
throw aside these clothes
and run to her home
to attempt to explain
in a way she'd relate
I made a mistake
but not too great to be forgave
I reach her floor
and knock on the door
to be greeted by the sorts
of Missoula's police force
they ask "are you Sid?"
and I affirm who I am
they then click my wrists
this shit has to end