Spitting up the mucus lining
the back of my throat
binding my gag reflex
to every breath.
I hope I don't choke.
Stomach lining
forcing it's way up
and out my throat.
Sliding it's way back down
into my lungs.
Coughing and burning
my air ways. The pain is profound.
It looked like cold bbq sauce at first
but as the forced
contractions became less dispersed
Every thing became more clear.
Whiskey had put me here...
It didn't hold you down and make you drink it.
Jul 11, 2013
Jul 11, 2013 at 12:42 PM UTC
Spitting up the mucus lining
the back of my throat
binding my gag reflex
to every breath.
I hope I don't choke.
Stomach lining
forcing it's way up
and out my throat.
Sliding it's way back down
into my lungs.
Coughing and burning
my air ways. The pain is profound.
It looked like cold bbq sauce at first
but as the forced
contractions became less dispersed
Every thing became more clear.
Whiskey had put me here...
It didn't hold you down and make you drink it.
I can no longer drink Gin, ***** *** Tequila or Whiskey. This is a dumb plan but it is working quite well.
© July 11th, 2013 by Timothy Brown. All rights reserved
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