Drank a whole year at twenty-four,
Almost thought my liver forgot its job.
Fingertip burns; losing streaks,
******* rivers of regret;
I can't swim through.
Christian tears only fall
When I’m bargaining with God...
It’s human.
Heaven’s promised tomorrow,
The next day feels like hell.
Sunday first, Mondays again.
Fall to my knees, fall out of my pleas;
Jack of all trades, jacking myself up
Just to cope; barter trade myself
Just to get by; I rearrange stars
Behind closed eyes.
Please Lord, take me back home
To that poem— lost in its world,
Far from this broken one, in pieces...
I broke down in my very first poem
Feb 7
Feb 7, 2026 at 4:03 PM UTC
Drank a whole year at twenty-four,
Almost thought my liver forgot its job.
Fingertip burns; losing streaks,
******* rivers of regret;
I can't swim through.
Christian tears only fall
When I’m bargaining with God...
It’s human.
Heaven’s promised tomorrow,
The next day feels like hell.
Sunday first, Mondays again.
Fall to my knees, fall out of my pleas;
Jack of all trades, jacking myself up
Just to cope; barter trade myself
Just to get by; I rearrange stars
Behind closed eyes.
Please Lord, take me back home
To that poem— lost in its world,
Far from this broken one, in pieces...
I broke down in my very first poem
This poem is about escaping a broken world by returning to writing, where faith, regret, and survival quietly meet, and where the speaker first learned how to endure
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