drunk

5 0 0
                                    

I woke up too sick to get out of bed.

I was up too late dancing with the ghosts in my head.

drank too much wine and wished I were dead-

I was up too late dancing with the ghosts in my head.

I could be ok and not feel so wasted

if each ghost that spun me round the floor didn't wear your face.

so I spend the night in a melancholy place-

toasting each memory that I can't replace.

maybe one more drink can lay these ghosts to rest.

Oneirism - Vol. I [EN] Where stories live. Discover now