Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Tuesday 7/16/2024 11:18:00 PM

small paths to follow. so many little things to destroy. 

we wear each other. loose skins and paper faces. heavy enough to give gravity pause. 

a listing vessel. on a shallow ocean. 

her voice full of numbers she can't reconcile. 

the lazy storm lingers. the windows stiffen. as she pretends to know when it will end. 

time draws on her veins. all the little stories she'll never tell. 

they hide in her blood and her tears. 

shards of when. those candy houses still stood.

Wednesday 7/10/2024 11:19:00 PM

 permanent chasms form under the bridges between our touch. savage is the telemetry that reconciles  yesterday and tomorrow. 

flesh accumulates. all bricks and blood. an ugly feast for time's vicious equations. 

we say we know. because we think that we do. 

ashes on the lips of the wind. desperate to be words. callous are the calculations that measure our choices. 

gods come and go. the truth remains. 

we knock on the doors. no one answers. we call their names. they don't respond. 

the world yawns. uninterested in our shame. 

we tug on life's zippers. stunned to reveal the hidden skeletons. 

the void bites its tongue. our voices  abandon us. 

we cut into the lie and watch it suffer. 

we say we know. but we're not even close.  

Friday 7/05/2024 11:54:00 PM

time chews on the constraints of its arithmetic. how we count. what we can add or subtract. 

the timid algebra of strays. 

we keep our purchase only by friction.  betrayed by our own skin. 

tucked sternly into the density of our stumbling decisions. 

we wear the faces of strangers. as our time machines trundle forward. on hungry zippers. 

our remains all spent. by the savage of touch. 

we tell our stories in borrowed flesh. scavengers in soiled tuxedos. 

we open our mouths to speak.  

but there are no words left. 

Wednesday 7/03/2024 11:55:00 PM

 the atoms were loud as she spent the last of her voices. heavy corners wore her spoiling math. 

all faded dresses and missing buttons. 

their words turned. pivoting on the levers of absent assassins. 

time gave chase. all dull fangs and matted fur. 

an impossible hunger. preening at an endless feast. 

her machines were idling. content to let her wait.  

the distance was pulling on her zippers. 

everything inside tumbling out. 

she stared at the wolf from behind a locked door. listening to his grinning ache. 

time removed its blade. 

the distance folded its map. 

the end of the world came and went. 

 still nothing changed. 

Sunday 6/30/2024 11:21:00 PM

 the numbers were soft. crevices in the shy oblivion that tabulates our losses. 

we spent the math on barren hallways stained with doors that never opened.

a din of scattered choices. biting on the wind. 

the end always remembers us. bereft of the seldom edges. intimacy evolves. a throbbing catalyst. 

no words. just the skeleton of touch. as it slouches toward the remains of our skin. 

the windows say our names. though they're not ours to keep. 

the distance chokes on our ambivalence. and all the shallow holes we've dug.

the thief steals what he can. the assassin prepares his weapon. 

we tumble down hills much too steep. our empty buckets heavier than they've ever been. 

we sit. our backs to the world. in a pool of blood. 

still picking at every scab. 

Friday 6/28/2024 11:21:00 PM


it seems impossible that we ever touched. given how vast the distance between us. 

i must have been a star long since extinguished by the time my light reached your eyes. 

i never had a name until you gave me one. 

we wore the space in tender folds. as if the world was ours alone to corrupt. greedy orphans who snuck our way into someone else's feast. 

everything was quiet. ache deafened by shock. 

runners caught on the sharp corners of our grief. 

the world collapsed. an exquisite apocalypse. 

time measured us by what we'd lost. 

an eternity evaporated in seconds. and we were strangers again. 

hollow dolls in their naked epiphanies. auctioning off their soiled dresses. 

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