Rhetorical sips

Five p.m. and I’m eating breakfast

Doing daily choirs as quick as I can

To get drunk from neon moon nights

Followed by shots of my old memories

Some too strong to swallow so easily

Into a dozen sonnets, my soul has bled  

In lines and rhymes making no sense

Bloodshot eyes come the morning light

Finally got tired enough to fall asleep

These are the ways- I find my escape

I live love on a thousand inked lines

But feel like I’m only dying in my life

Maybe something wrong with my process

Of living life with the time…I’ve got left     

.    

Poet of the Light © 2023

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