That struggle inside.
No one to confide in.
Starting to feel tipsy,
With whiskey kissed lips she,
Tries to find what she's missing,
Tired of only existing.

Longing for passion.
A depth out of fashion.
Meeting soul to soul.
Losing control,
Wishing for once to feel whole,
A lifestyle, not simply a goal.

Eyes filled with fears,
Sharing space with only tears.
Another sip. More honesty.
Looking for an anomaly,
Wondering if there's more that life could be.
Fearing that reality.

Another sip. A late night call.
Worries and troubles, she bares all.
Wanting to be understood.
A need that she would,
Satisfy if she could,
But not knowing is she should.

Those eyes hold the prize,
Hoping that they belie,
This feeling welling in her soul,
Wild and free, in its role,
Filling up that empty hole,
Having all the pain paroled.

Another sip. More admissions.
In a compromised position.
The whiskey amplifies shame.
Scared of the rules of the game.
Though it shows, all the same,
Fanning sparks to a flame.

No shame in the moment.
Her mind, her strongest opponent.
No need to run away,
From the things that she'd say.
And the arousal she conveys.
She'll have her druthers some day.

Never a need to disguise,
What she tries to hide in her eyes.
Late night whiskey kisses,
Can still grant all our wishes.
The moon smiles in the distance.
Thinking of the one she misses.


© The Moonlight Bard