Good Mourning
I have been up since seven this morning.
Last night after about nine of so is a blur.
The images come back to me in flashes.
Whisky, bottle, cigarette, smoke, black, knife.
This morning it is cold out, there is frost.
It covers everything, the ground, my jeep.
Even my face.
Later
Last night after about nine of so is a blur.
The images come back to me in flashes.
Whisky, bottle, cigarette, smoke, black, knife.
This morning it is cold out, there is frost.
It covers everything, the ground, my jeep.
Even my face.
Later