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Seven of Swords

by Jaydon Cole

I had thought you were lost,
but you had only finally awoken;
head on a pillow that no longer smelled familiar,
A room brighter than you remembered;
thoughts dancing between fighting-
or fleeing.
Sour, sex, smoke, and glass carried on a
breath you could no longer endure.

Risen from the whispers
beautiful in their incomprehensiveness,
you rose from the bed in resolution as you
pour my breakfast down the drain again and
return to me for one last kiss
as my eyelids peeled slowly open.

And I adored you through crusted
hung-over eyes as you stood determined
holding your exhausted smile
and your seven swords.

04/19/2010

Author's Note: Alcoholism isn't something you should have to deal with, but after the anger subsides you're always still there... I wish, for your sake that you weren't...

Posted on 04/20/2010
Copyright © 2020 Jaydon Cole

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