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#3

sunrise
a sleepless night
the house still at last
and my stomach grows tight
as it remembers events come to pass
hungover
my eyes hang heavy and yet, moreover
i cannot succumb
mind heavy and limbs numb
a weight forcing my head to pillow
soft promises so hollow
as i am forbidden to truly rest
my intoxicated proclamation
of my overbearing mortality
cherry coloured wine still runs through my veins
and sour fruits remain on my tongue
familiar tastes,
a familiar face
a familiar night
none of us as young
as we were when we began
nothing ever as poetic
as i made it out to be
and although tragedy has befallen me
and lack evidence on the contrary
i'm sure the night was as beautiful
as it could have been
and the company fit perfectly
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