I like 40's
you like 40's
we should drink 40's together
40's ounces of malt liquor
a couple sips and I be feeling better
once I got one down let's crack another
let's drink some 40's together

There's comfort in crashing
or so you said,
I've crashed and burned
and risen up again,
but I like rock bottom
just as much as floating on clouds,
being in the pits is easy
no reason to get out,
I've lost myself

spiritful sprites exploded color
off in the distance,
a forty in my hand, a roof top
under my feet,
each new rocket was greet,
with a whoop or holler,
as circumstance would have it,
each new rocket also made my heart
feel smaller,
like every explosion chipped away
piece after piece,
and the only one to scrounge them
back up was,
me

The screen gleams sending out
blinding beams, Zach is in the shower,
forty minutes now and I've been back,
once,
twice,
three times,
he responded and I went outside,
an empty peach and beat
couch seat,
welcoming my silent musings
as they wander off,
I'll cough and spew,
a few words, a few verbs,
a few kicks to the curb,
then bounce back,
It's okay,
I promise,
relax,
I promise,
but you promised not to
die

I stopped smoking ****,
thinking that it was at fault
for the empty swirling,
I felt
like I wanted to curl into a ball
at my feet, and disappear
I haven't gotten drunk in weeks,
hoping it was alcohol that
elongated my funk and stole
crows feet from eye corners,
I quit all substances that could
make my mind turn in on itself,
I thought it would help,
make the world clear,
but that empty swirling is
still
here.