hy (thahylife) wrote,

my friend

Running, and stumbling – smashing faces, making places fit.
I ramble and dance in smoke ah spent, hoping…
Just to get.
(The only others are those that wonder
How I came to this bit!)
Trembling in hands
Not meant to hit
Only to hold and kiss.
You should laugh now at me!
Short as my sight may be
I still, keep searching
With one hand or two,
for the bottle in front of me.
There she is to my despise,
My God, My Savior, My Guise,
If only, she were my friend.
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