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neth jones Mar 13
my mouth hung like an overwhelmed option                        
             i swivel at the window facing
            and stay out the entire day      in this one gawked position
  amazing heat      and an ugg shy of thought                          
    withdrawn     in a mut of mental paralysis
                               by an alcoholic system
                                       on a day off

the day dunks into the eve before i shift any movement
    having sifted the ull                                       
i mix a jar of *** and orange juice
  in the open fridge door
29/08/23

an age dying filter feeder
unk-ing out of brain
selina Feb 28
in the morning, i will feign ignorance,
pretending to be fast asleep and unaware
as you pull on your shirt and socks

we should have been theater concentrators, like,
if we never talk about it, it just never happened
you're just so nonchalant, and i'm just melodramatic

and i'm never satisfied unless it's something tragically comic
so tonight, let's pretend to be enemies, let's become lovers,
let's drown in shared regrets, get too familiar with each other

after all, tomorrow, when we wake, it'll all be over
your missing friends and my crushing hangover
will, once again, inevitably, reduce us to strangers
people who major in certain fields are called "concentrators" at my college
AceLione Jun 2023
Drinks, drinks and more drinks down my throat
To feel some sort of nausea like I’ve been rocking on a boat
Just for the moment of absolute alcoholic rejoice
To dance, jump and yell out every bit of your voice
To be like some sort of euphoric paradise
The pain of it faded away is for later to realize
Jammit Janet Jul 2021
#61
Educational hangover
You rewrote my internal story
Switched around the dialogue
Kept my life anything but boring

Educational hangover
You got me drunk on knowledge
Faded on grades
Homework stacked
Books for days
Brumous Jun 2021
If one can be drunk on love,
I'd rather stay sober
than having headaches
and the wretched pain
of a hangover.
I don't drink, alright.

edit: I changed hungover to "hangover," it was surely a typo since I needed to copy then paste it because the 502 thingies kept happening
Lewis Wyn Davies Sep 2020
Today, tiredness
has strapped itself
to my ankle bones.
I'm walking upstairs
with adult weight,
dragging eyelids open,
nudging consciousness
still lying in the road -
desperate to drive along
that towering bridge
and back into

last nite, the strokes
of three, four and five
passed me knowingly
like a former lover.
Grudges were embedded
long before the peak.
There were teeth marks
left in breeze blocks,
street signs stolen
as the town went under.
Down a park slide,
we deep-dived life.
Climbed theatre roofs
to discuss our plays.
Threw our shoes,
plus socks, in frost,
before settling on home.
American video calls.
Empty cereal bowls.
Maybe six or seven
goodnight smokes
with a slumped hug,
voicebox croaked
during the final tokes

and I'm under covers -
today, tomorrow.
There are crumbs
on a camera lens
and fingerprints
smudged on mirrors
hidden behind a face.
I'm not coherent,
feeling anything
but God, this Sunday.
Poem #2 from my collection 'A Shropshire Grad'. This poem is about wild nights and the sense of achievement that lingers the following day... despite the fatigue.
Jamie Jul 2020
First hangover post lockdown
I don't think I've ever felt more alone
Maybe it's the hangover or
Maybe I finally I can say it

I don't know if, I would have felt
Any different if we had lockdown together
But you gave me everything
And I took you for granted

Maybe I would have noticed it more
All the things you did,
How you gave have me your heart
And you were always there

I don't know where you are
How you are
But I hope your safe
I hope you are happy
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