Blue
Drinking myself to sleep
I pull down the shades
Have a glass of scotch.
I forget about the women
Yesterday’s lack of sun
And look forward to the music I will hear tomorrow
Take pills for the pain
But still bend over into my fetal position
To heal my internal bleeding
I fall dead asleep
© 1998 David Greg Harth
98.09.18.01:46:00@NJ