Life got too hard,
and he just gave up
he tipped his vodka bottle
swirled into his cup.
No ice please I hate 34 degrees
hurts my teeth they start to chatter
then I start shaking my knees.
This bars my Christmas
my birthday,
my new years, no ones here
its my bar at my house
I sleep in my sleeping bag full of
beer cotton mouth.
The mice even left.
Without that molecule
I couldn’t snore a wink
the sheep in my dreams are drunk
they stumble fences and pant bleats
They guilt me to sleep
not calm soothe or meek
they taunt me of loss of love
and a family that cant speak
The roaches are gone
they stopped playing cards
I watched them wall glide
and asked them to stay in my floor
Then the roache left too.
It seems cant do much
drunk klutz falling over tables
maybe my liver loves me
maybe that’s stable.
I go shopping for droppings
for things that I need
if I loved myself a bit
maybe I'd do speed.
End it quicker.
The cirrhosis is my friend
he gives me gifts
cramps in the morning
and blood in my piss.
I think if my liver were the garbage man.
He'd bring me good news
but I think liver got mad,
downed the last of the booze.
My liver left too.
Now I'm a maggot bag stinking up the place...No one knows.
Who knows.