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Ander Stone Feb 2
it's the way the sunlight hits her eye
that makes her look so enticing,
like a glass of whiskey
on a thirsty day
of never being

it's that brown being lit up golden
through the windows
that tease a glance
into a broken

it's my fault for always finding myself
out in that desert, with nothing
to drink away the need
to forget about and
walk out of the

it's that jar of honey she sees the whole
world through that keeps pouring
and calling me to take
a drink of her
whiskey hued

my only defense is uttering out loud:
name's Ander,
and I'm an alcoholic.
Musty kisses, so much like cologne with a musky smell, leave a lasting aftertaste—an indication of a man desperately trying to conceal his insecurities. Rumors have circulated that he has resorted to manipulation and mind games in his interactions with women, resembling a predatory elite, a muskellunge lurking in the depths of a freshwater lake. As nightfall approaches, he prepares himself for the evening's activities, donning his goggles like a skilled diver ready to plunge headfirst into the murky waters of awkward conversation and those all-too-familiar first impressions. With an air of self-assuredness, he boasts about his past athletic achievements; "Hey I used to be good at sports," obviously spelled out on his letterman jacket as evidence of his once formidable sporting prowess. "While I may have retired from the game, but perhaps tonight you can play ball, and be the one to play with my *****," he slyly suggests, fueled by liquid confidence provided by a few shots of courage. Unfortunately for him, the weight of his words pales in comparison to the value of the drinks he has been offering the object of his attention. So of course she won't pay attention.

As her patience wears thin, she cannot contain her frustration any longer and resorts to throwing the last swallow of her drink in his
face, an act meant to deflate his ego. Instead of swallowing his pride, he bounces back like the reverberations echoing through the empty club. Retrieving a cigarette from the left pocket of his coat, he ignites a flame and engulfs himself in a cloud of smoke, attempting to find solace in his self-imposed camouflage through his chimney neck.
Without skipping a beat, he beckons for another glass of whiskey and casually whistles a tune before every sip, as though seeking comfort in the familiarity of his routines. In a fleeting moment, his gaze meets mine, almost as if we were old friends sharing a silent understanding.

Little does he know, I am acquainted with the man behind the facade, aware of the pain he actively conceals behind his bravado. There is a tragic narrative woven into his life, one in which he has been consistently belittled by a brother, leaving him with no choice but to compensate for his perceived shortcomings by pushing boundaries. Within him, there is an unmistakable sense of being lost, drowning his sorrows in a bottle. Tomorrow, he will consume his own words, choking on the regret that accompanies his intoxicated state and *****. It is a sobering tale indeed, one that asks us to consider how we may overlook fragments of our own pain reflected in the brokenness of others.
toBelieve Dec 2023
I'm sorry for hurting you,
I've hurted myself by hurting you.

I'm sorry,
I'm sorry from the deap down of my heart.

I'm sorry,
Yes, I've loved you.
But not that fancy romantic love.
I've loved you as you,
As I will never love again.

I've loved you,
It's in the present past,
I've loved you.

I'm sorry for being me.
I'm sorry for you, being you.
I'm sorry but you are a wonderful human being.
You are a beautiful soul.

/I swear to god/

You are wonderful,
You were wonderful,
You will always be wonderful.

I hope all the best for you.
I hope that you will always
Be you,
Be happy,
Be angry,
Be you.

You are special, unique & wonderful.

Please forgive me,
Please forgive yourself,
Please forgive.

Let go.

And go straight,
Go to your destiny.
Run for it.

You are so beautiful.

I've loved you,
Cause you kept reminding me of Me.

I am special,
And stupid.
But you are not stupid,
Nor am I.

We are special,
Hard & difficult,
But special.

I'm as sorry,
As I am thankfull,
For meeting you.

Sorry, thank you.
Thank you, sorry.

I love me.
I love love.
I love life.
I love being drunk.

Un livre

Ivre de vin,
De poésie,
Ou de whiskey.

Mais moi, non !
No more whiskey.

I love me.
No more whiskey.
I'm sorry,
Sorry !
I love you,
I love me...
Ron Sparks Aug 2023
The taste
of my cigar
and the whiskey in my
gullet can't fill the pit inside
my chest
Ron Sparks Aug 2023
dark chocolate,
smooth jazz, and some gritty
poetry are all that I need
William A Gibson Jun 2023
you pull me through doorways
with cherry red charm
you fill me with whiskey
and hang on my arm

The clerk asks for blood
the stone has run dry
we promise ’tomorrow’
and feed him with wine

dark clouds now move faster
with voice of hard wind
it speaks to you only
as thunder moves in

you twist here beside me
and curl like a vine
your teeth in my shoulder
reliving some crime

you hold me so tightly
and whisper your vows
your secrets stay hidden
your tears are so loud
Paine Dec 2022
Wearied eye
Hopelessness within
Ice cold heart
Shots I lost count
Kisses that was meaningless
Ephemeral feelings
Young me would hate this me
Zack Ripley Dec 2022
Days used to start with a coffee
and end with whiskey.
Those were the days I thought
"if I left, would anyone miss me?"
I don't look fondly on those memories,
but those were the days that taught me about empathy. What I've learned
is that there are 2 types of days.
There's the days ahead and the days behind. You can be afraid of the past,
or you can use it to change the future.
Bass and bourbon notes
Flutter down through my system
And I taste the sound.
Guillaume David has a new soundtrack out. Code 4 bourbon is delicious. What else is there to say.
You look like you could use a drink
Heavy pour of whiskey as you sit down and think
Seems your mind is on the brink
While all the other ships around you sink

High tides and heavy goodbyes
I can see the emptiness in your eyes
Stick around longer, we can all get high
Our minds are destined for the sky

Familiar faces now enter the space
You forget why you were in such a dark place
Add a splash from the tap just in case
Makes it all easier to chase

The window is open so don't sit around
The breeze will help push you when your ships run aground
The laughter in the air is an uplifting sound
Seems what you're searching for has finally been found

This takes place at a pub in Liverpool
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