Rock N’ Roll Heartbreak

Fiction

I love a good dive bar on a Saturday night. I love drinking from the bottle and getting tight. I love the girl who’s standing at the bar, giving me a look that says you won’t get far. I love the size of her boyfriend’s fists. I love the pain of a broken nose. I love the taste of my own blood. I love the sound of the bartender’s voice, the grip of his hands on my upturned collar. I love the cold and the smell of the streets. I love lying in the gutter and thinking of you. I love waking up in a shit-hole flat, picking up the phone to a no-dial tone. I love looking through all the old pics. I love sticking on our old song. I love being skinny and never wanting to eat. I love getting high and writing down words, turning my pain into another smash hit. I love being broke and all alone…

I love not knowing how this’ll all end.