Lost gambles and big bucks,
Bets placed on memories,
Like lottery tickets thrown out after a few blocks missed off from the fortune of a century.

Drunken and disorderly,
I find myself intoxicated by the hypocrisy,
Droning past the symphonies of biographies,
Settling into the sensation of monotony.

I allow myself to feel the indecency,
Encompassing the facetious and malicious connotation of idiocy,
Words I lay in front of me like land mines,
No trip just pressure and even the slightest bit allows a flurry of verbs and nouns not known to the religious or the sacred.

Bottles downed in one sitting,
Every desperate attempt to hide from those memories,
Mulling in me like a novel with copies,
Each sip takes another one from me,
I relish in the idea of absolute silence from those hurting me.

Now they have a name,
I remember less and less each morning,
But every sunrise comes with their birth given right in the forefront of my memories,
So I drink a little more,
One day,
Someday,
I won't remember anything.