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Aug 2016
I feel the warmth in my chest and I know I am alive.

Im dead almost 24 hours a day.

My thirst is unimaginable.

My nector is also my drug.

My lungs take it in greedily while my liver cries tears of acid.

It's killing me.

I think’

I down another bottle.

I live in the sweet warmth of my ambrosia.

Diving in the lake of fire.

It burns my insides and my throat.

I down another bottle.

My money is dry as so is my supple.

I do a strange dance for my addiction to be sated.

As the dollar's fall the liquid flows.

The faster the merrier the cheaper I feel until i'm worth no more.

I take a breath for the first time in my life.

I scream for help i'm drowning, i'm drowning

No one helps No one cares

Finally I stop breathing I stop struggling.

I drown
Drinking is an addiction and a drug. It can **** you and it can seem like an ambrosia. Its warmth is alluring and deadly.
Ariel
Written by
Ariel  19/F/Texas
(19/F/Texas)   
713
 
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