I am here for a high five, and a goodbye

I never end a poem correctly.

Nonsensical nonsense.


I need to breathe.
I need to live.
I need to be.
I need to create.
I need to not say no to me.

I need to say yes-
to love,
to health
to happiness.

Yet,
I cannot.

I am on a role.
like a mole,
driving myself down
down down
into the plush ground.

I am home.
I am comfortable.
I am happy for a moment.

And then it all ends
when soberness begins. 

Confessions

I take the blame


..

BLAME!


I'll take the check.


$10.00 !!!?!???!!

For ONE drink!?

What is wrong with this world?

I'll take it,
drink it,
drunker.


I NEED IT.

I WANT IT.


Because-
I want you.



I cannot speak.
I cannot think.
I need a drink.


Blame me.

BLLLAAAAMME.


Slur.
Spin.
Stur.



I hate you.
Because I hate me.

We are nothing.
Everything is nothing.
Everything is everything-
Because we make it so.

I think too much,
yet not enough when necessary.

Drink.
Cigarette.
Drink.



I may be O.K.
Most likely,
I shall drown in my
own poetry.

Unfettered.

It's All A Memory

As I look in the mirror

I see-
my swollen face,
beautifully shaped body
in need of a work out,
smeared makeup,
messy hair,
all through the eyes
of a drunken slur.

Where do I stand
in this world of awkward people,
and awful things?

I keep drinking
to keep my heart alive
or drowning,
in my own comfort.

Nothing makes sense
except my messy hair,
swollen face
and young body.

Where is my mind?
Lost in translation.
Quoting songs,
Quoting movie titles.

I see no further
than the bottle in my hand.

This is sad.

Am I sad?

More so

Depressed.

In the most possible
angelic
positive
way.