My bathwater baby
June 06, 2008
My Iron Stallion, cold and metal. Me and him, we have a lot in common. We're out in the snow, packed down like mules, headed east. She's not going with us, a tear forms in her eye. It's a real tear, dug up from deep, deep down, the kind that's been waiting two years to leave. She's been saving this one for me, the way you save money for an operation you hope to god you'll never need. A goodbye kiss doesn't make any sense here, but it doesn't stop us both from wanting one. Loneliness, the gift that keeps on giving. My heart's been torn beating from my chest; but me, I don't need that operation, not yet. My Iron Stallion, cold and metal. He doesn't look back, and neither do I. Me and him, we have a lot in common.
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