Tuesday, April 17, 2018

i hope heaven is a well stocked whiskey bar


i came across some poems for you

of forest green and ocean blue

you were the weather in my storm

my love for you was not performed

except in dreams to an extreme

i wake up with remorseful screams

that my one dream ended abrupt

the only place i’ve known your touch

 

goodbye again will not rescind

or offer any dividends

apocalypse me, please and now

i’m tethered to this fucking tao

of swans dancing in fisher’s nets

accepting such without regret

we compromise the satisfied

until there’s nothing left to lie

 

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