Our Final Goodbye

I was never one for long goodbyes.
That had never been our way.
As children of the ghetto our swords were sharpened on blacktop,
Even as we witnessed our hearts bleed;
Or heard our souls plead
For a sequel to our Bonnie and Clyde epic.

Truth would prevail.
I watched her windows shatter
Into shards of broken dreams on late night pavement.
Sparkling in moonlight like fallen stars
Dropping from her emotionless cheek.

She watched me fade away.
Taillights glaring;
Hardened heart riding shotgun.
Swerving with regret while switching lanes;
Running red lights to flee the pain;
Missing my Hip-Hop as soon as the music stopped playing.

Drowning out my lonely
With dope beats.

Paying a toll to nowhere
As I Dissolved into city lights.
Tasting the burnt bridge behind me
Blending with lost souls of the night.
Searching for comfort in understanding
Why
Blanca from the Bronx
Needed to take flight.

Our stoic endings were déjà vu.
So much so that we played our parts perfectly.
Armor donned and polished
Portraying ‘strong’ while taking the ‘L’.
 She left and returned.
 I Left and returned.
 She left and returned.
Left and………….
….returned with lips bloody.
Soul frail and hair thin from tainted love.
Her sword dull
Her armor tarnished
Vulnerable and weary at my front door.
Ready to receive
Needing to be believed

Wanting to hear real Hip-Hop again.

Not wanting to accept
That my hardened heart
Had found a home in the loving spirit of the Islands.


© 2010 Keith Horton