Five shots down and I’m on the floor my eyes wide open I stare blankly at the chandelier hung by my ceiling made of, not diamonds or glass, but of stars- stars I create out of the wishes I make to see your hand in mine tied like a knot that even time can’t undo and they sparkle like they should blinding me of whatever I ache to see I reach out trying to grab a star to hold this small wish to encase your hand in mine but I’m just left catching air 5 shots down or maybe more and here I am staring hoping wishing till these stars fade into the light and I, into nothingness.
A well-read woman is a dangerous creature🧐