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.
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