If they could bottle my mind
It would explode an incoming tide
If they could slaughter my pride
I would die tonight.

Cigarette burns on my jeans
Coffee and whiskey stains on my lips
Burrowed drunken tendencies
Making me do things I regret
From fighting sleep to breaking noses
And deadly plunges into despair.

I know I have to withstand
Refrain from frightening myself again
Near death experiences have become the norm
I'm a morbid thinker anyway
Deeply trying to find a sense of harmony
A melody in a disjointed song.

Memories are of hazy days
Drinking and scratching walls
Waiting for them to bleed
But my fingers do so
Painfully spilling crimson
Over immaculate floors.

I seek redemption and a upscaled life
Full of blooming flower pots
And love
I seek energy so I can run a marathon
To the other side of this world
Grasping onto my heart as I do so
Keeping my guts intact.

My funeral should be empty
I don't know anyone who would want to sit through it
I'm ain't charming or socially acceptable
So why would they want to read out an eulogy of warmth for me?

And onto love I go
Trying to capture the essence of it
Preaching to God about it
Manipulating its strain
Offering it to strangers who drink with me
Because they feel sorry for me.

And then I wake up to a groggy feeling
A taste so dire
I would rather drink my own ****
And tell all my secrets
To the world.

Marry my good side
And shatter my bad side
Empty pride into a cup of ***** laced orange juice
And drink up
It may sting
It may make you sick
But it'll burn your throat
And your dreams away.

I was once a dashing prince
In my own castle
In my mind
I was a man of power
Of glory and hope
But truthfully I look like a corpse
Dragged through a gutter
With snapped tendons in my hands.

I sit it in this club for hours
Drinking straight up whiskey
Ordering so many that I'll be dead
Before it's all drunk
And then she appears in front of me
Beautiful in an organic kind of way
Deeply rooted in elegance.

It must be an illusion
No one this well rounded would want to speak to my washed up self
But she does speak
Offering me advice
On how to live a stable life.

I listen carefully
To her words
She's creative
Like a wordsmith
A dream catcher
A painter of a scene.

She grabs my glass and throws it at the wall
She takes my hand
And tells me I won't fall
She orders me to drink coffee
Enough to waken my soul.

She saved me from myself
A princess of the night
A girl draped in white.

In this apartment I sit
With her head on my lap
She sleeps, snores even
But it drowns the voices in my head.

The TV show is glitzy and fake
Lovers kissing at every take
Their optimism sickening to watch
Their eyes have never seen hurt
Or death
Or knife wounds.

I grab a cigarette
I smoke it to the end
I drink a beer
I drink it to the end
This pattern only points to one outcome
Oblivion.

She wakes
Kissing me on the cheek
Whispering
'Let's ****' in my ear
With haste I jump up
And scream
You cheated on me
Why would I?

I think the rats heard me
As they scampered into the crevices
Hiding away as my wrath begins to widen.

She sits back and takes it
Looking on at me with bloodshot eyes
And a smirk.

She grabs her stuff
And leaves me to cascade into despair
Another beer will be drunk
Another piece of love broken by a deceit.