Drunken poems never work for me.
Sitting outside,
Smoking my cigarette,
Clutching my bottle of momentary respite
But here I sit writing it.
You inspire this in me.
Not the drinking (to an extent)
But the writing.
Without you I would never of started
Without the pain you unknowingly cause
I smile even though I'm hurt.
You make me smile.
You make me hurt
I'm sad now so this is done.