Sip Poem by Dislocated Heart

One after another,
lips that touch,
tougues intertwine,
hands that hold,
only to link with a disconnected soul.

pushing and pulling,
the forces won't let go,
its all too fast,
won't take it slow.

sheets are torn,
arguments made,
now left with,
repeating words,
in dismay.

who am I to even say..
you were the one,
the one..
who will ever love me that way.

now on with the next sip,
bourbon or scotch,
her lips full of lipgloss.

it's another day, to drink what's left.. away.