Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: Recovery Times Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Thursday 7/19/2018 12:12:00 AM

the pace beguiles. the slumber of humbled muscles swells in our heads. how far. how fast. the corners

i clutch the hours in my fist. amazed at how soft they are. i let the ink spill from my sweat. curious at the words it makes.

we somehow saw paradise in the hell that we made. the unfortunate paradox of falling in love with a stranger.

the distance spends us. the currency of flesh. more valuable than we had ever been taught. the map slithers through our veins. an ugly drug desperate to redeem us. a broken toy desperate to be played.

we tally the miles in the rush of endorphins. in the high of the chase. determined to feel that good again.

we name the poisons. convinced we can harness the power they have over us.

we say it's simple. face. lips. fingers tips. deceived by their delicate penetration. 

while their exit leaves us riddled with holes.
tripping. the inclines indifferent.


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