Tell Me A Story

I haven’t forgotten about you.
Or the words you bluntly rolled out of your mouth.
Which formed into smoke,
that I inhaled straight to my heart.
when did you become so cold and dark.
or was that the reaction to this chemical disaster.
I’m starting to feel plastered.
Is it from you,
or is it from this handheld concoction.

© Duc Nguyen WordsOnEmptyEars, 2017

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