thirty six

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thirty six

                i gripped the almost empty bottle of whiskey

                and stared down at her grave.

                the one memory

                the only memory

                i chose to remember

                of her

                still replayed in my head.

                i could hear her laugh

                light and full of life.

                see her smile,

                wide and happy.

                i raised the bottle of whiskey

                to my lips

                and took the last mouthful.

                i swallowed the hard liquor

                and fixed the white roses

                at the bottom

                of her grave.

                “i love you,”

                her voice echoed in the night air,

                “and i love you,”

                “promise?”

                i faintly smiled at the memory

                and placed the empty bottle

                of johnny walker besides her grave.

                “forever.” i swore

               and walked away.

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