forever

takes lifetime
to get there,
sacrificing unstable
illusions for
concrete truths,
waiting for that
day to

pull the trigger
to time,
to the bottle,
to the time
in a bottle,
that is an issue
in itself, or so
she says,
but i tell her
it buys me time;
i can escape
from the lease,

the leash pulled
tight around my neck,
those people i think
to trust, later
drag me to their
own discretion

so i let the drum
beat the guitar
string strum
the piano key
strike long
enough to bleed
the blood orange
birds to sing
in the last
morning sun,
disappearing.

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741