Wednesday, November 18, 2015

The way we used to be.

I can feel it hitting me. This time of year always creeps up with old memories on its coattail. The leaves and cold, the frost on the windshield, they have stories.
Like an old denim jacket, my collar cuffed up and the radio cranked.
We had our heads thrown back laughing like nothing could ever bring us down.
You were telling me tall tales with the brightest light in your eyes.
Cause we were close but our hearts were closer.
We had roping gloves falling out of the jockey box and coffee cups all over the truck.
It was late night drives out by the lake.
Our cold hands would throw a saddle over a hump-backed colt and we would smile over at each other with grins that damn near said 'it's about to go down.'
The sunsets glared at us sitting on tailgates watching them sink.
We were crying laughing at our own stupid jokes, throwing dirt clods across the barn.
Jumping train tracks in old trucks like we were cool or something.
We were holding each others hands telling ourselves it would be okay.
Deep down we knew it'd all work out someday, we had so much faith.
I can see us when I close my eyes.
Standing in parking lots with roper shoes on our feet and wild rags around our necks and we were grinning bitching about the cold.
You were so loud and it made me loud and we had the windows down in freezing cold weather.
Our cheeks stayed rosy red and our lips were as icy as our fingertips.
I remember the way your face would get dark when you were mad and how you sull up.
I always wanted to laugh cause you would come around so fast.
Your hair was messy under your hat and you were the fearless that I tried to be.
I wanna feel the way we felt; on fire.
I wanna be cold and stiff in the morning the way we used to be.

      Xoxo, Gussie

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