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.
Liar liar
Shit.
It happened again
The floor is cold on my face, I can barely feel my toes.
ow
The bruises that haven’t formed yet, but I know that are coming.
empty pockets
Where’s my phone this time.
oh god
I’m never drinking again..
liar
I know.. I’m lying.
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