Shot after shot, the burning liquid crawls down my throat. Everything is just a haze now. I don't know whether I'm drinking to forget, or drinking to remember...
My hands are shakey as I grab the shot glass and perch it on my lips, moments before pouring the concoction into my mouth. This has become more a routine than a habit.
I'm up to my sixth shot, and this is the part where you're supposed to prop yourself hastily on the stool beside me and grab my wrist, stopping me from drowning away my pain-but you're no where in sight.
Oh, that's right...
You left didn't you?
Guess I'll be doing more than six shots tonight....
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Broken Wings - Poetry {COMPLETED}
Poetry200 Poetic Tragedies ... A collection of poetic chaos, written on love, loss, lust and longing. This is a safe haven for the broken - For those with Broken Wings. _____________________________ "In a world full of heartbreak, sadness is all I've eve...
