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Cradling the moistened glass
Soothing… numbing.
Intensity building up in deadly silence
Lifting… tasting.
Drowning one’s soul with chilled heaven
Savoring… quenching.
Euphoria! The world then hazily dances by
Spinning… intoxicating.
A quiet stillness envelopes all noise
Oblivion…
Nice, but merlot is not supposed to be chilled.
Oh, debbiedebbie. You woke up this morning with a wicked hangover, didn't you?
Step into the broken glass
Slicing, bleeding.
Headache building up in morning cacophany
Retching... puking
Drowning one's pain in Advil and cool water
Moaning... vowing
Bloody hell! The world lurches by
Off-kilter. Wrong.
Jesus, it's time to go to work.
Oh, ****.