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