One-hundred and Eighty-one: Feeling Good.

I’m feeling good. Tonight I danced my hands,
smoked coca cola bottles until 6:33 in the
morning. I saw the sunrise, my sister,
whisper  through the windows. You know,
we grinded against the photographs of
someone’s innocence. I tip-toed the edge
of a dimming lightbulb, pulling back
a chain I never should have dropped.
I licked plates like irony, tasting
yesterday, testing the palate of you
for the last time. I’m done.
I’m feeling good.

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Published by

Alexia

I drink, I laugh, I smoke, I write.

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