R.M. Dolin, April 18, 2023
God damn I’m tired, tired and alone…tired of being alone. “Cut the bullshit,” I scream to the wilderness of my soul, but only the waspy whisper of Coyote calls back; empty echoes of all the shit I strive to outrun but can’t escape.
You are coyote, playing with my soul in comical ways that cannot end well….at least not for me.
A lost and anguished Cowboy, the last one in from the cold, the one who just can’t seem to rest. I’m not afraid to love you, it’s the fear you won’t love me back; the lingering listlessness at the edge of my darkening arroyo.
The biggest lies are the ones we tell ourselves, the ones that must be real; the essence of our next breath.
God damn I love you…and that’s a God damn shame cause you've always been a grasp beyond my reach; the biased truth every gambler accepts before the first bet is placed, the beguiled belief things are gonna work out.
Note: The title is taken from a Eugene O’Neil play
