"scotchy" poems
In this night
Cold lonely sheets
Cover my..
******* warm body
While my warmth drifts away to the thoughts
I am having a doubt about that scotch
It sits there
Perfectly still
Perfectly inviting
The one that makes me puke
And hurt
And its still not as bad
As the feeling of you
My writings are dirt
But so are you , my love
Youre perfect dirt
For the millionth time
But love oh love
While the cold cover slips my upper body
I slowly let go of the thought
And the scotch
And grieve over you
Until sleep catches me
I think
Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 6:03 PM UTC