The Liquor


Bed is stable
as I down liquor.
Down I go now
adrift quicker.

I have a touch
fiending green
take away pain
and the obscene.

I like chasing
clouds where I
don’t whimper
nor do I not cry.

Steely crimson
and red velvet
adorn your taste
I can not help it.

All our hurt it
lifts off my eyes.
Sweet love of
mine you I cry.

But there’s tears
not for I am stern.
I need a supply of
your touch learn.

2 Comments Add yours

  1. Lia says:

    Your writing is fabulous Jared. Keep on.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. 😊 Thank you dear.

      Liked by 1 person

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