The Flying Dutchman
Wearing Pleather pants tucked into Sorel winter boots
Carrying a bucket full of cuss words
Drinking whiskey straight from the bottle
While ranting around trash barrel fires
Drunk
I stumble past
Blindly chasing lust
Which I believe is love
Certain
This time
It will fix everything
Discover more from Quietly Making Noise
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
