I'm drunk again
Nothing new.
Nothing different.
I'm drunk again
Listening to music
Nothing somber
Nothing sad
Maybe a little of both
I'm drunk.
I've started drinking wine;
Riesling
Honestly, it started because of Mac lethal.
Honestly, I really like the taste.
Honestly, I don't know what to do
Honestly, all my dreams have come true.
I'm back with the first love I ever had.
I have the job I've wanted for years.
Between all the new beginnings.
And
Between all these awful dreams
Is where you can find me.
Where do I go from here?
Where do I go?
Knowing that I've achieved something.
Am I proud?
Should I be?
I drink nightly,
I smoke most nights
And I play video games so I can feel alive.
Where do I go from a new bottom?
I think...
No,
I drunkenly declare!
That there is no top
Only a bottom
It rises with you.
And my new "top"
What should it be?
What do I dream?
What do I see?
What could I be?

I want a kid,
I want to teach someone the way I wish I was taught.
I want to play like I'm;
Two
Five
Six
Eight
Eleven.
I want to be like my father before me.
I want to be like my father.

I'm not as easy to read
As you may believe
My head's a war zone
My heart's a sinking ship
My shell seems vacant
Because I'm trying
to keep my head up
But that doesn't speak for me.
My appearances don't match my feelings.
I'm trying to recalibrate
But one thing I can't stand
Is when I'm told
what
I'm
feeling.

Sometimes,
I get tripped up
when I think of going back
to
who I once was;
a poet,
a man with his head held high
and
chest pushed out
like some sort of
sixties super hero.
Can I really replicate that?
Can I write poems as I once did?
I find that in these times
words
fall
like
a
waterfall
from my head,
through my nervous system,
into my chest
where a gust of wind
is pulled between my lips,
down my throat,
into my lungs
where it becomes vibrations
climbing out of me
like the victim of a car crash.  
then comes my teeth,
The porcelain wall.
my mouth,
the black hole.
Nothing seems to escape me anymore. I find that
in times of utter contentedness,
I can not speak. "
It's hard to write content." Unbelievably difficult,
unbearably so.
Yet, here I sit,
tapping away at my phone screen, dividing myself from my surroundings by vibrations of sound.
Yet, here I sit.
Trying to pull the lid off
of
this porcelain vase.
Yet here I sit
begging my body to let go,
some of these words
are to heavy to hold.
And  
some
to light to be held back.

Looking back over my poetry
I find
I'm an amazing writer.
I find
That it's only when I'm sad.
I find
That utterly disappointing.

When a cat falls for a rabbit
He's unable to see that the rabbit,
Unlike him,
Does not have claws
Teeth made to puncture skin
He does not see that when he plays
He's too rough.
                    
When a rabbit falls for a cat
She does not realize she;
will be unable to stop his play,
Will be hurt though
the cat could never know
She doesn't see that she is the prey

When the cat falls for the rabbit
He doesn't see how much she hurts
Because in his mind they are the same.
There is no excuse for the cat.
But when the rabbit flees
He will realize
that he wasn't the right thing.

As the weeping willows bend in the breeze never to break,
I will bend as well.
I know that every kiss was real,
Every touch,
Placed deliberately
Every night spent with you in my arms was appreciated.
I knew from the beginning you may change your mind,
To wish to return to the longing stares
That I'll throw your way when I see you in a crowded room.
I knew that we could,
very well,
return to your hand moving past mine unstopped.
I'll miss letting you claim me with your lips
Allowing you to stroke my soul with words unbound  
I'm not okay with the situation
But, yeah,
I'll be your friend, again.

I shall cut ties to this ****** town
From the frays of the rope
I'll ignite the flames that burn the bridges.
I'll miss you all
when I think of you from time to time
I'll revisit the place where I used to meet you halfway
Shrug, turn on my heels and return to where I am respected.

I was awoken by the sound of song
Time adrift spent to long
I couldn't see although I searched
For the space your voice was perched
A voice so strong a stiffened breeze
That fell to silence with a subtle ease
I listened hard to try and hold
The voice that let these words unfold

The horizon appears, so, blue;
The sun, so, warm;
The breeze, so, cool.
Spring is here,
And
Life, today, is no chore.

It's, too, early in the day for me to be this drunk.
Work will be hell hungover
So I'll ask
Can I still get into heaven
If
I
****
Myself?