A beer bottle curled lazily
around my moist lips, but
my mouth tasted like gin and Regret.
He looked at me
and the sky seemed to darken with
his cold stare.
Lately,
Regret wasn’t a foreign substance
on my tongue.
He tipped his nose up,
said,
“the sky is angry, doleful, but
the clouds will not cry for you,
and neither will I.”
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 11:26 PM UTC
A beer bottle curled lazily
around my moist lips, but
my mouth tasted like gin and Regret.
He looked at me
and the sky seemed to darken with
his cold stare.
Lately,
Regret wasn’t a foreign substance
on my tongue.
He tipped his nose up,
said,
“the sky is angry, doleful, but
the clouds will not cry for you,
and neither will I.”
