Over head he smiles
I only know because I feel his warmth
The alcohol has caused a blur
My madness sinks beneath whiskey slurs
I’m thirsty
I’m hungry
But I’m too intoxicated to fix either
Maybe I should have left the bottle alone
Maybe this is my life and how I want to live it
“Fuck it” I spit
And reach for the bottle
Just one last pour
A sloppy drop wilts into the bottom of the glass
Such a lonely drop
like his smile from the heavens
I sit back
rub my grumbly tummy
And smile from his warmth
-Saschia
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Published by Jayne
Jayne is a writer. On her free time she likes to be with her family hiking outdoors and traveling. New England is her home and place of birth. When asked what she wants to teach the world she replied, "Don't stop searching. Too many times, in my old life, I put my search aside for more 'important matters.' I didn't realize the thing I was searching for held what was most important; my soul purpose." Jayne works daily improving her craft and at times can get down on herself, but her favorite morning mantra is "It's a new day." and that's what she strives to start with.
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