Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2010
I'm laying in the ruins of my own new lifestyle.
Tipped over bottles of ***** aside,
I still feel okay.
I wonder if the world's crusted over pedestals still condescend to me
or if I have gone beyond their gaze.
There are little plastic fairy tales dancing around in my head like tipsy gumdrops.
What wonders shall spring from this:
(the new day,
the old day,
the ever increasingly frequented day)
except hangovers and light thoughts about how I'm handling this well,
I'm handling this extremely well.
I still feel okay as long as there is 80 proof to wake up to.
creative commons
Written by
Kathleen  F/United States
(F/United States)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems