Thoughts & Poetry

Self Infliction

At the verge of insanity,

I stared at the bottles on my table top. 

Thinking of popping more than I should… 

Washing it down with liquor, I would.

‘That’ll surely do the trick,’

I uttered, but if only I could.

A corporate tough cookie with the soul of a gypsy. Professional bathroom singer. Teacher. Poet. A light-eyed dreamer who nitpicks for a living as she waits for redamancy.

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