They were lies.


I recognized their particular shade of spin as soon as they dripped from his exquisite lips.


I wanted to drink deep of that shade.

Drown in those lips.

Convince myself I didn’t already taste that familiar undertone of acid.


I could have played along.

For just a little while.


I could have leaned in close,

lips curled ever so slightly,

whispered wordlessly,

Game on.


I could have slipped my hand in his,

And disappeared past midnight,

Kept that harsh song of loneliness silenced for a night,

Or maybe two.


They were lies.


And there wasn’t enough whiskey in the world tonight…

To make me forget.



Chelsey Whitlow



One thought on “Whiskey

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