Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2020
Grief is a liquid
It is the tears in my pillow
Sweating you out into bedsheets
It is sickness in the morning
Whiskey in a mug before breakfast
It is the water I can't drink
It is the storm that kept me awake
The night you called
It is the rain that's followed me since
And the coffee gone cold on my nightstand
Where you left it.
Myrrdin
Written by
Myrrdin  27/F
(27/F)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems