I can't hold my liquor;
I'm not a lightweight, I literally can't hold the bottle, but I can hold a battle with my demons for the remainder of the night. It's not an anger that consumes me, It is fear. I'm afraid of us and for us. I can't hold my liquor, but the fear doesn't sway, it's simply numb, like dentists drilling your teeth after a shot of novacane. Frank Ocean plays in the background. My soul is fragmented across multiple songs and melodies that's why I drop to my knees and sob uncontrollably- the memories come rushing back. I've forgotten what it's like to feel except through other people's art. I'm afraid I can't be whole. I can't hold my liquor, and as I walk outside I see a dead cat boiling on tarmac still hot from the Texas summer. And the birds are free, but they can't fly against the wind, that is where salvation lies and that's the catch. I'm afraid the mortal condition can never be cured, even in death. I can't hold on to hope, but the bottle is within arms reach, I just need a better grip.