aftermath

yes it's another poem featuring whiskey

aftermath

Here I am again with a glass of whiskey
wondering what the hell just happened to me,
and why did it happen again, just the same?
I can hear my heart beating in my ear,
I am washing my tears down the drain.

I never was wise with my love.
I shouldn't have looked again 
in your eyes, my love, shouldn't
have breathed your near. 
I've learned too many things, 
but never enough fear. 

Ice crystals on my face --  
I taste the salt, I taste the pain, 
I taste the yearn, the peat, 
the smoke, the burn,
the heat. 

I taste your silence,
you always served it neat. 

— Amy Isikoff Newell