Your former shot of whiskey (Poem #131)


I rarely speak of you,


 That is how haunting you are,
Yet for over a year your presence was a giant in my life,

Overshadowing me,

My world.

It covered them with mud,

The smell of diesel,

Smoking bullets,

And Tabacco tins.

Now I stand outside your shadow,

Tears dried in my cheeks,

The Tabacco won’t save you,

The bullets missed the kill shot,

You missed my heart,

Those five girls didn’t do the damage you thought they would,

Because you of all people taught me,

You can take the girl out of the country…

But you can’t take the country out of the girl. 

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