The Summer We Were Soaked in Brandy
We drank to fade away
until it worked.
When the morning light
painted the bodies
that we were still trapped in,
we fell asleep;
too exhausted to care
that we still existed.
It was in the heat of the afternoon
we melted and melded
to our consciousness,
bogged down by our bodies
fused to the same skin
we tried to shed nightly.
We Washed ourselves in Whiskey
Scrubbed with Brandy
Soaked instead of rinse
and repeated
in those witching hours.
But our faults were still blindingly bright
In the dark corners of the young minds
we shoved them under.
We never stopped trying to drown
the demons we carried with us
but alcohol is not holy water
And faith only works
if you believe.
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone.
988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — call or text 988, 24/7. Crisis Text Line — text HELLO to 741741.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (1)
Comments are closed for this poem.