The aggravation
Tick
Tick
Of the internal
Monologue
I want to burn it with a
Cigarette


It's impossible to speak
So I wrote poetry
I stayed up late in
The night
Penning
Senseless  pages of words
Easily forgotten
Oh well
That's good go on with our daily lives
Until it hits you one day
You'll be sleeping all alone
And
Alcohol was your best idea
To put it away
In the bottom shelf
Where it grows
and rots
A hole away in your life
Until you open the drawer again and fall in