Drunk Poem by Becca Swindell

Drunk

Rating: ★2.0


My fist closed tight around the glass,
My 1st, my 4th, my 8th, my last.
I stumble and fall,
I just tried to reach the wall...
I don't want to hold on, don't want to last,
So i just fall and watch the glass crash.

Becca Swindell
Monday, November 12, 2012
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Poems By Becca Swindell
My Story
No Warning
A Haunting
Drunk
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