Midnight sorrows, alcohol in hand.
1am floating, hoping someday you might land.
2am whispers to the shadows on the walls.
Mapping out strangers in their sober conference calls.
3am mingles with a lover by your side.
This golden liquor love keeping everyone alive.
4am glass as bottles shatter to the floor.
Swimming through the fluid never felt like this before.
5am changes, no longer someone free.
Shackled to the roots of a whiskey palm tree.
6am headaches, cleaning up a mess.
Finding bits and pieces of invisible success.
7am cringing as you pour another drink.
"Breakfast in a bottle" and you begin to sink.
So cheers to the people who knew they always could.
But I'll take my failure in a flask; its never tasted quite this good.
~lmw
(Photo by Lexi Wright)
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