Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: Follow the Drinking Gourd Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Sunday 8/13/2006 10:35:00 PM

Doused in the sunset the headlights' nostrils flared. Wheezing with a trampled vision. They couldn't see any further than we did.

He never said he was different. I just assumed. As anyone might when the confronted with someone they want. No real reason. Other than a need to see a green light where there had always been red.

It's not like there was anything down the road to catch. Just more road to eat up our pace. The anvil on my back as I tried to look him in the eye. Tell him I only wanted to go back to when all my lovers were inside my head. Before I needed help from any kind of medicine to sleep. To write. To speak.

To be certain that I was alive.

And writing was my privilege. Not my burden.

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