Every Day is Halloween

Lucy Tonic

The pack is gone

Both my crutch and my friends

The stove is not as hot

As this grudge on my head

So I'll retrace this string

Back to its liquid source

Curl up in bed to wither

Of regret and remorse

Or I could go anywhere

Pull my records to my chest

Use my curls as a pillow

And drink myself to death

Published by Lucy Tonic

Prose/Poetry Writer Movie/Music Critic  View profile

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