Drunk and questioning |
(Why is it I write best when wasted? I can't remember writing a single word of this, and I refuse to edit it, so here it is) I did it again Drank until I couldn't feel Puked until I couldn't breathe. My throat burns, I can still taste the bile. The bitter acid, rising up my throat, Reminding me that I am nothing More than a bottle of liquor. My heart fits in a shot glass, That is what I have become. Pathetic. Drunk. Can't even get the words out right. Can't get a single feeling out right. I still want to scream. I want to pour it all out of me, into sound. I want to become music. Each note with define my soul, Each key will mark my passage into life. As the notes rise, so do I, Just as I fall when the notes fall. I take all I can into life, Including the unpleasant. For, after all, I am unpleasant. Fuck, I puked earlier tonight. I did it to see the lights. I was spinning in a field, And the lights all blurred together, And the faster I span, the more beautiful they were. So I kept spinning and spinning, Racing the earth Racing time Racing life And just when it seemed like I would win, My stomach responded And I was forced to let go of all that I was. No longer could I pretend I was innocence. Somewhere, Someone out there understood me. |