When the tequila stings my throat things start to happen, repression flows forth like a cat walking on water, quick & frantic I tell stories, tales about things I keep under lock & key, living brokenhearted.
Well, **** mysteries, don't let them stay bottled up, guzzle gin instead of Mezcal.
Holy cow true believer, poke yourself with ****** to find out what is righteous, remember Camelot.
A character poem....I don't condone...just exploring the reasons.