Addiction
By PoppyS
- 652 reads
The light has faded to early summer
performing her games of hide go seek.
I think of you often caught between the gloss
and brittle bones, of lovers past.
Tequilas are my sunrises, rattling
chinks of treacherous ice.
Dead bodied, whiskey slammers
red cherry parasols for the ladies, ring pulls
for the uninspired man.
Hedonistic days drift upstream
sucking out their ambitions
far into the night.
Contaminated air –
laden heavy to exist, as we like
lizards on heat
slide elongated from our rock.
I have captured the silence
of your body’s landscape.
Spaces carved deep, forbidden
and untouchable, far out of most
people's reach.
I would be ruined to tell you I miss you
you just have to believe me, when I say
you are a hard habit to break…
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Comments
Tequillas are my sunrises...I
Tequillas are my sunrises...I've been there. That's the problem with addiction. It doesn't look so bad when you're on the inside; as this poem points out.
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This is great, PoppyS. Not
This is great, PoppyS. Not sure if literal or metaphorical, but works nicely for me. Paints fantastic psychedelic pictures.
Parson Thru
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