moonlit autumn night
i took my ghosts for a drive;
she let them wail at her.
half a bottle and
imprinting your nails into me,
a nice, lonely thought.
my mind costs me more
in gas, than it does
in medicine.
YOU ARE READING
Melancholia
Poetrypoetry takes us to so many places, and we take poetry to so many places. here are poems about places, and sometimes the people found in them.
