Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: Beds Unmade Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Wednesday 3/29/2023 11:37:00 PM

the miles that measured us stopped counting. the monsters that became us retracted their claws. we swallowed the poison and it only made us want more. 

licking our fangs as the blood turned cold. 

love told its stories in broken shoelaces and locked doors. 

time sold its remaining songs. and we danced to the silence as if the world was only ours. 

the fickle of winter sold our skins. and so we took shelter in the flame. 

the more it burned, the more we wanted it. 

0 comments:



Copyright 2005-2024. All Rights Reserved.