Languid Lover
Maybe it’s monstrous to murder
the music in my mind
Turning tunes to feathers
floating on currents of ether
like waves on whiskey seas
Black cherry bourbon and soda
sweet with heat
bubbling in my blood
converting my consciousness
reverting me to who I should be
making a mockery of my insecurity
my anguish and anxiety
as I dance alone again another night
A golden rope of hope holds me upright
for one more day
though it’s beginning to fray
There’s no solace in this silence
A time machine for trauma
reminding me why I am this way
I wonder what words would win you
as liquor is a languid lover
that leaves like every other
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