Challenge
Challenge of the Week CCXXXIII
Write a short poem about waking up in drunken regret. On this one, winner is decided by likes. Make it brutal. 25 big ones on the line. Go.
15 reads
Doubt Soup
Head pounding.
Mind in a fog.
Thoughts stand, just out of reach.
Groping in the dark.
For a single one.
Any.
One does.
Floats through the soup.
Gradually making its way.
To me.
Bumps against the shores.
Of my mind.
And.
Reveals itself.
Was it worth it?