The cemetery across the street beckons me,
The tree that once divided me from the dead now gone;
From time to time,
I take a walk
Above the bodies
In the dirt,
I don't know them or their stories,
If they're in Heaven, Hell, or else;
But their bodies are the same,
Laid in graves,
Calling my name,
To the empty home in the ground, but the headstone reads no date...
The liquor store across from my window,
Well, it calls me,
And it begs,
For my lips to touch a bottle,
Give my soul up,
Let them in;
It draws me in
And closes around my throat,
This unbearable feeling,
These damaging thoughts...
YOU ARE READING
VADE RETRO ME, SATANA.
PoetryVADE RETRO ME, SATANA [Get off my back, Satan.] Disclaimer: This story becomes progressively lighter as I do.
