20 kwietnia 2012
sonnet iv - unfortunate
sadly, tea cannot cure a hangover,
just as alcohol can't cure depression
we have found out that earl gray in dover
tastes the same in chicago, confession!
father, a confession to be made now,
that my head hurts like my soul is broken.
to drink a glass of water, raised eyebrow
of the world, of last night, words unspoken
pop an advil, give a half-hearted grin,
and then a cup of steaming tea to wash
the glitter of yesterday off my skin,
pretend again to say our minds don't slosh
lipstick stains on shot glass, on porcelain
taking meds as we wait, the world begins.
28 sierpnia 2025
violetta
28 sierpnia 2025
ais
28 sierpnia 2025
wiesiek
28 sierpnia 2025
absynt
28 sierpnia 2025
sam53
27 sierpnia 2025
Arsis
27 sierpnia 2025
wiesiek
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absynt
27 sierpnia 2025
sam53