sockmonkey

Someone told me, this, tonight...

There are some women, who are like fine cars, he said.
Or like that crazy instrument, that you didn't think you could afford to buy, at the time...
Or like some women...

You touch them,
and, they're fire.
But, you walk away,
thinking you'll forget, or find another.

Man, that thing could race...
It was a Gibson... It would be worth a few thousand, now...
I could have lived with her, forever...
GodDamn, she made a new forever, every day...

They're like Heroin.
You know that you won't stop wanting them.
And, you know that when you leave...
But, you leave, anyway.

You come back, later, and, they're gone.

Then, he laughed.

Where's that lucky hat, you used to wear?
I always liked that hat...