we had the most saddest and hidden swaying drunken nights,
all of us, friends
from the bitter ends,
in a yearly interchangeable
roster,
the purely
'stick arounds-or-be awfully missed'
gathered around alcohol
talking silly, laughing
at each other's stories
and sensible nonsense
with smoke in our lungs
and spits on the
balcony's neutral corner
for ****, spit and puke,
singing halfway songs,
remembering
remember's contents,
it's like a boat without a captain,
just reckless abandons,
relentlessly hardworking morons
who are in debt in
finding out the worth
of it all outside
the confines of sobriety.
whenever we make it to
the nearing dawn
as drunk *****
carrying the weight
of the fun abuse from
the night before;
sore throat, oily hair, ***** fingernails, weak joints, bloodshot eyes, bleeding sentiments, sweaty forehead, sweaty palms,
moments i most feel like ****
though **** i am really are
but i feel great,
i feel more human despite the few
friends i have
who tolerate
the wrong in me as
i tolerate theirs,
there is nothing more to
life than moments
you could never relive
once you let the bad in you
take control in
grace.