Wouldn't Have It Any Other Way - #mexico #chickasha #ninnekah

HR girl called me "sir" today, like I'm already a memory. Fifty years of diesel and grit, smoke I choked on willingly. Mirror showed a man who’d quit somewhere down the road. No ring, no porch, no one left to notice so I let go. Left my keys there on the floor, walked out, didn't slam the door. Not chasing peace, just trying to settle the score. A middle-aged ghost in a linen-white shirt, looking for the place where the ending won't hurt. Down where the law's a rumor, down where the truth's a lie — Cartel country is a good place to die. Celaya to Ecatepec, a ditch, a wreck, a warning sign. Tijuana salt and tequila — A man hanging from a bridge wasn't the first in line. San Salvador, a bar, a girl who asked me where I'm from. "Not where I should be" — we danced till the night was done, while kids threw dice on cobblestone. A middle-aged ghost in a linen-white shirt, looking for the place where the ending won't hurt. Down where the law's a rumor, down where the truth's a lie — Cartel country, an easy place to die. Colima's pits, Acapulco's ghosts, men hollowed out like empty coasts. Honduras streets, Guatemala's heat — I keep walking toward whatever I'll meet. A middle-aged ghost, run out of road to hide. If death wants me, I won't run — I'll just step aside. Down where the law's a rumor, down where the truth's a lie — Cartel country is where I'll die.