Whiskey

It flowed smoothly.

Gushing down, alleviating;
Pains of things lost,
and not found.

Spreading warmth,
In a bitter frost;
And peace, around.

Each gulp,
Partly bitter,
Partly sweet.

Relieving slowly,
The jitter.
A confidant; discreet.

It flowed crudely.

As the night,
Slowly passed.
Slightly pressed.

Each slurp,
Quickly amassed,
As I confessed.

Everything –
Wounds old.
And stinging.

Painful to watch,
The events unfold,
And memories yet clinging.

It flowed.
And then it didn’t.

As the darkness,
Of the night.
Bled into it all.

As the sorrow,
And the dimming light,
Put an end to the fall.


I’ve been maintaining an Instagram page too! Check out Detour Poetry.

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