I drank way to much vocabulary
before my eager eyes needed to
dilute the intake of my surroundings.

Into slumbered inspired visions,
that would play on my thoughts repetitively,
like a cracked analogue song skipping.

But still I awake in darkness, needing
to release the effluence of what was
indulged upon earlier. That visage a
delusion of  slide show moments.
I felt the bed its wet,
                        I didn't make it in time.

Blind verses wet on the sheets, my hand
was in it, I gag... And then see that its
a mirage of what was drunk upon.
It had to come out at some time.
But 3am couldn't I control my expulsion.
                        Instead I sit here in sodden verse.

As I wash my sheets, not the first time or
the last. I take heed.. not to drink so much
before I go to bed, because white sheets are
now grey. So many words kept on other layers,
these ones just inevitably washed away.