You drank my mind

as I drank my wine.

Then I switched to rum,

and you got me drunk.


Looking for the right thing to do

always seem to play it wrong.

Twist on the borderline is what I do

with skills of loss, and hurt, and gloom.


Sometimes I wish I was blind

to what you had in mind.

But I am only an empty glass of yesterday.

Still I have to make it through the day.

                                      August 2015


*snafu – situation normal, all fucked up


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