Fists and Red Wine

Men with baseball bats
Broke my knee caps and split
With the little breath that I had.

I never gambled much,
Except with nightly whiskey,
An OCD libido
And handling money for worms.

I bring people down
To a level where love lights
Fires with fists and red wine.

But they don't forget those
Loud red debts that
Racked up in-between
The one flesh winning streaks.

True believers will tell you
To risk it on whatever
The guilt-soaked dealer can give.

God gave me nothing
But a fucked up straight
And a pair of tired lungs
Ready to fold on forgiveness.