Sour Breath

Disappointing encounters

That little light from your lampshade

Coiled around every kiss

Is the taste of a temporary love.

It’s a bitter pill to swallow,

But we’ve all forced ourselves

To stomach worse things than this,

In the name of desire.

 

Nobody enjoys a burning esophagus,

Nor the rancid taste of stomach acid

That accompanies every exhale.

A goodnight kiss has been replaced

With a shot of sour breath

Breaking across the face of a stranger.

Going to bed alone would be the smart thing to do, 

But you’re two bottles deep,

And it’s cold here in December, Ohio,

So you drag a warm body up and under the cover of your sheets,

Because under those covers

You can almost convince yourself

That warmth is coming from a place of genuine care.

 

But that lie falls down, down, down,

Into the cavern that used to be your sense of empathy,

And it keeps falling until the…

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