I’ll let you in on a little secret,
the kind that usually only escapes my lips
when i’ve had too much Jack and I lean my head back when it’s told.
The kind that causes my eyes,
not to be able to meet in line with yours
after it’s escaped my trembling, beyond tipsy
laced lips.
I’ll let you in on the secret knowledge of how
my hands tremble more than usual,
my heart beats at an unsteady quickened pace,
words fall out of my mouth without any meaning behind them
tangled in with the constant knot in my stomach,
bags under my eyes are only a
doorbell in understanding
fixation of over thinking without sleeping,
deepening the meaning of withdrawal.
Sweep the idea of fully comprehending what all this means
under the rug
no one can ever put it in a glass
under the microscope
and dissect the situation without the toppling of my being.
Maybe this is in reality,
the type of secret that
only Jack can reveal and right now,
i’m out of money and without a cause.