Another Sonnet - Apr 21

A(nother) (Sh*tty) Sonnet Cute girl who works the local liquor store counter, I wonder sometimes how I strike you.—am I happy in your eyes?—do you like to speak, when daily, as a steady chore, I stroll onto your heavenly sales floor? (You said it was another day (yes fake) ‘in paradise’, in answer to my joke.— —and then I left with my usual four.). Reality looks (more (something)) like this: biting my nails until they burn like hell, eating my nervous thoughts,—binging and purging on romance,—and on a deathly scourging of emotional detachment. O’, belle, there’s nothing more I miss than someone‘s kiss.