The cans in my room clang like church bells on a Sunday
waking me from a slumber as I roll in my blankets
the wind sweeps my cheek
my minds still asleep
but my eyes flutter anyway

I can taste last nights regrets on my tongue
stale
dry
like I spilled so many words
my mouth has nothing left to taste

Beer still rolls in my belly
holds me like an apology
as I reach for more water
I want to reach for something more