Thursday, June 16, 2016

Debonair Alcohol

I pop atmosphere like pills now
curse my introversion
there are lips begging to speak yet
I have no way to open the gates
to my mind in a fog
a carbohydrate free haze of
Propel and Poe-
a strange mixture, I miss
my debonair alcohol, oh how lovely
those spring white blossoms were
before I woke up-wow,
the hangover.

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