Us, years later

by on March 19, 2018 :: 0 comments

Up the broken steps,
between the vodka and the tears,
crying washed out the truths.
We got lost somewhere between
the past and the present.

Somewhere between when those
clear tells fell and the crystal vodka
turned to red blood,
was the trust you needed,
was the truth I wanted.

editors note:

Sometimes it takes years to break that bottle which blocks the way between trust and truth. (We welcome Kimberly to our crazy congress of Contributing Poets with this submission. Read more of her madness on her new page – check it out.) – mh clay

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