Whiskey Sour

devouring the last drink
of this deviously empty night
while gazing from the city skyline
squinting my eyes at the view so bright
and slurring at poetry but promising
to rework it the next day light

an unconscious deal with Jameson & Johnnie
intoxication to turn into sobriety again
for the cocktail didn’t have answers anymore
only so long for my troubled heart in vain
the starry night witnessed this saying
fuck your sad drink, let’s open a champagne!

and with yet another last drink in my hand
believing it to be distilled to attain richness
like it was the last grieving men’s only choice
and gulping it neat like nobody’s business

gradually giving up on my temporary fix
for the momentary normalcy it brings
is hard to skip in a heartbeat
from a decade old music playing on loop
in my stereo of indie void as
play > stop > repeat


8 thoughts on “Whiskey Sour

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