He held a bottle of whisky to his lips like a pacifier, his life was a blur how could he of considered her? He was a livewire who dropped her from a mountain then got distracted by his shadow. How could she not; drown in a bottle, wash away her sorrows .. she'll be find by tomorrow, so don't bother, asking, who broke her? When you finally realize, her cup full of liqueur, but the nights already over, you can't blame her, for falling in love with the joker, just hold her, tell Harley its over.
YOU ARE READING
Giannulas Chronicals,
PoetryMy first series of poems, Falling in and out of love, finding myself again, and letting go of old pain. Thank you and I hope you Enjoy. New additions may not be found at the bottom but within the lineup. In chronological order. -giannula 🤍
