Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2019
Wake up, head pounding,
throat on fire; the air's too bright.
Check where you are,
check what is on you
--clothing or otherwise--
hands croak for water, trembling weakly;
bottles of liquor, open at random;
pick your way through
the jungle of clothing;
single shoes scattered.
A book, earmarked maybe, from another life.
Written by
Olivia  F
(F)   
229
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems