Bartender

Bartender…
pour me your finest
top shelf despair
the highest level
of distilled sadness
give it a squeeze
of bitterness, too
shake it with apathy
and a dash of spite
pour it over the ice
of my numb heart
a swirl of tales
mix well with tears
I’ll tell you mine
refill my glass, please

this bar never closes
serves the finest
late night grief
I’ll stay till morning
mourning my life
maybe a stranger
will take me home
inebriated we roam
until waking up
wrapped in each other
in our gloomy air
sipping on sins shared

never to sober up

never to care

~ E

10.30.16

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33 thoughts on “Bartender

      1. Depends on what part of my life we’re talking about, I suppose. I’m surviving. But, I’m not drunk in a bar. Although sometimes, I’d like to be. πŸ˜‰ Happy Halloween to you, as well. Dressing up?

        Liked by 1 person

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