Lost

Lost:

 

This book.

I can’t stop thinking;

falling

back

to those caffeine-

fuelled nights

reading, writing,

reading.

Your brain sparked

by nicotine,

loosened by alcohol.

Mine, blurred,

dull

as January sky.

 

You taught me metaphor.

A sharp short-circuit of emotion

you don’t need to understand.

 

You taught me pool

And how to skip

stones;

the world spun on vodka-

spiked

Diet Coke

and light-headed lungfuls

of tobacco.

 

I miss you.

The morning runs, the evening

pints,

the random texts and writing

checks

but more:

I miss

your bloody hugs.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s