6 views
drift
a new Wednesday
I left her in the middle of labor
I couldn't hack it
a broken man
my father hates me
his father hated him
my mother was a prisoner
wicked as a winter winds whim
she said my real father.
she said...
his real father was a guitar
strings sounded like the winds
that blows
through souls
I told her it's so cold
in a letter I didn't want to send
in the end
we all feel guilty and we burn
in the end
we all feel guilty and we learn
and we
I almost fell asleep.. til my hound made a sound in the dark
easy
boy
I grabbed my Mossberg.. shotgun. poured three shots
© All Rights Reserved
Related Stories
