I wait for you at the bottom
of my bourbon but you don't
come so I have another-
and another: still no sign of you.
I'll stumble home now, remembering
what it was like to find you
there waiting for me wearing
nothing but a smile.
You don't wait for me anymore
or even slow down -and besides
I'll only worship you while dreaming
or when the wind whispers.
We've made too many mistakes
to turn back now and put
the world back on its axis-
and I rather enjoy this lonliness.
3 comments:
thanks
im all too familiar with this feeling. I couldnt have written it better myself. Luckily these days I have less to drink and believe that love is a poets dream. It makes it easier to be poetic. or something.
People should read this.
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