Saturday, January 24, 2015

Red Wine Confessions

I've never been a drinker,
but too often I find myself crying at the end of a bottle.
Wine is the worst best friend I have.

And don't get me started on Saturday nights with nowhere to go.

Twenty-six doesn't feel any different from twenty-five,
and yet... I can't help but see every day gone by in my face.
Fuck.

My mother would think I curse too much,
or at least I imagine she would.
I'm starting to forget the little things about her
and truth be told, 
It scares the living shit out of me.
Because if I forget her,
than I forget every reason I had for believing in anything.

Faith is hard to have sometimes.
Especially, when you're me.

And I've decided to tell people that my tattoos mean nothing,
It's easier than admitting that they're only in places that I long to be touched the most.

Loneliness man...
Fuck.

No comments:

Post a Comment