His mind is a blur. His hair whipping in the night air. A cheap drunken smile plastered on his face. His favorite song playing loud for everyone to hear. He feels good. It all feels really good. This moment right now. Free for just a moment. That cool air rushing right through his lungs that travels into a tingle in his back making him exhilarated. Eyes bloodshot but he sees everything clearly. Happiness overflows him he starts crying from how good it feels. He starts sobbing from how great he feels now. He starts bawling at the fact he's losing consciousness. He's sadden he won't feel this good the next day. He falls asleep with tears streaming down. The feeling went to rest. Until the next hurt.... until the next glass....
YOU ARE READING
Somber
PoetryCold and black. Dark and hopeless. Frightening and ghostly. My eyes spill the liquid from the thunderstorm of my mind. How I dampen my shirt in pure distress. My heart pounds so loud, that it's tearing at the seams. How blackened and dull the day...
