Recriminations, regrets and rebellion

every poem I’ve ever written is a place to keep a memory,
all washed down with some stirring liquid to make life a little easier.

the typical desperado weighing up his sins against the goodness he feels in his heart,
I am constantly constructing and demolishing my kismet like a fateful monster.

more than a pile of photos, more than songs or inside jokes,
the idiosyncrasies kill me with how incredible they can be.