Not every night
That you drink champagne
Is a night of celebration
Whether a formal party
Or one of those new year's eve parties
That take place at some dump of a place
Some nights
Are lonely nights
And you're over everything
You're stuck
And know that there's no moving forward
Or out
You sit on the bathroom floor
Anticipating getting sick
After all
It's just you
And the bottle
Sometimes
Your lonely night
Is spent in sweatpants
And a tank
Other nights
You were supposed to be celebrating
Something you've already forgotten
And you got all dressed up
For the occasion
But now you sit
Champagne in hand
And makeup smudged
It's a lonely champagne kind of night
And I'm not sure
How it all started
YOU ARE READING
Leaving Behind the Endless Fields of Corn and Soybeans
PoetryEveryone has that one place in their heart. The two will always be connected, whether they love that place, or hate that place. My place? My town? I love it, I hate it. I've left it behind. This collection of poetry is about the place, the town, tha...