My vision is like a kaleidoscope
Continually shifting as I awake
And peel my face from a cold tile floor.
My hands rest on a cold surface
Smooth as the glass bottle that put me there.
Porcelain.
As my vision spins I ease myself to my knees,
Remnants from the previous twelve hours
Spill from my mouth like pigeons
Fleeing from a running child.
The metallic taste of blood
Lingers on my tongue
The color red clings to the color white
It seems afraid of what will happen
If it lets go.
I try to piece together
How I got here.
Where is it that I am?
Why am I where I am?
I push myself to my feet
The kaleidoscope continues to vex my vision
It is then I realize where I am
I am in my home.
My brain attempts to spark memories from
The night before like flint trying to spark
A fire.
Still that fire refuses to burn.
I turn and look to the mirror for guidance
But I do not recognize the person I see.
This same mirror once showed me
A man that looked content
A man that looked happy
A man that looked clean
A man that had something to live for.
Now the mirror shows me a man
With blood vessels bursting in the whites of his eyes
With an unshaven face that could cut a welcoming hand
With nothing left under his transparent skin.
It is then I remember why I am here
He’s gone
He took too much and now
He’s gone.
I reach for the remnants
Of that smooth bottle upon the counter
And as I finish the final drops
I slide back to the smooth
Cold tile floor
The dancing of my vision stops.
And darkness takes its place once more.