I remember the songs
that makes me bleed.
Each of you makes me
remember the darkest
bits of how you made
me feel.

I'm going to drink
a little red with a
little summer wind.
Yet you'll cluck your
tongue with disapproval,
but I don't care.

I'm going to stare
like a telescope into
a wine bottle.
As the last drop drops
on my cheek.

So I'm going to die,
as you laugh at my plight.
Just let me remind you
that the light is still on.

Let me drink as crimson
beeds down my chest.
As you let the parades go on.
Let the smell of stail youth
burn away.

Kiss me like yesterday,
and I'll laugh as I
drink the last drop.

09/23/2006

Posted on 09/23/2006
Copyright © 2025 Christopher Shin