And in my inebriated bliss,
Your vodka mouth, upon my lips
Your fiery presence fulfils my life,
you warm my heart, and soothe my mind
And in my drunken masquarade,
I play this game of life's charades
And in the corner of my room,
my russian friend, I'd die for you
Crystal clear, you, nothing, hide
Find the answer you keep inside
Oh dear Vodka, how can this be
My glass was full but now empty
REFILL!!!!!
Author notes
Is it fucked up to write to a bottle of vodka? 
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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considering you are the definition of fucked up [its a compliment!!] then perhaps it is lol
good piece, stealing some of the imagery maybe lol <3 -
speaking as a guy who vodka pretty much gets to do anything, no it isn't. the bottle told me to say that, it has my liver hostage and it will not let it go. love the poem still, keep it flowing
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omg XD
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