we used to love

we used to love

A Poem by Daniel Atkinson

midnight nearly, and i'll be hung over.
when the bottle whistles empty and i beat at my chest
and the warmth is gone and the buzz wears off
and i look at the bags under my eyes
and i listen to my son's whispery breath as he sleeps and wonders
and i hate
and i damn
and i breathe deep and still feel the hurt
when i can't sleep i think of you.

© 2019 Daniel Atkinson

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A somber look at unresolved loss. I hope the pain eventually subsides.

Posted 1 Year Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

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1 Review
Added on October 6, 2019
Last Updated on October 6, 2019
Tags: hurt, alcohol, fatherhood, love


Daniel Atkinson
Daniel Atkinson

Atlanta, GA

"it's so easy to be a poet and so hard to be a man." -Bukowski more..