Hungover

Eyes blink open,
Confused,
Not sure if it’s
Morning or if it’s
Yesterday.
And it smells
Like you, like
You might still
Be here, on the
Other side of
The bed under
The covers.
But you’re not.
I know that
You’re not.
Because I know
That you’re afraid
To spend the night,
And that you’re
Afraid of getting
Too close.
And, of course I
Know that it
Can’t be yesteday,
Can it?
No.
It must be today.
I just can’t
Rememeber yesterday.
I must have been
More drunk than I
Thought, from
Morning to night.
Oh well, I think,
That’s alright.
So I make a Bloody
Mary, and I start
At it again.

9 responses to “Hungover”

  1. Lou, what’s gotten into you. No degenerate worth his degeneracy sounds like a love sick, love-lorn, loveless, Lou. Whether in fact or in fiction. Maturity is taking over now. Prayers. Jesus saves Lou – rescue is on the way.

    Liked by 2 people

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