Two parts hopelessly.
Three parts souless.
Another part callous.

A shot of sadness.
A drop of youth.
A splash of you and I.

Mix with misery.
Shake for hope for a second.
Then swirl with death.

Pour in frosted hands.
Salt the edges with jagged words.
Drop two hearts stabbed through with toothpicks.

Drink like a child with
a squashed face of dread,
like medicine with a chalky
taste.

03/22/2006

Posted on 03/22/2006
Copyright © 2026 Christopher Shin