With lips
Like Hershey Kisses,
So sweetly,
You draw me in.

Like honey dripping
To a fly,
You draw me in.

Like a beautiful
And smelling flower
to a bee flying free,
You draw me in.

Like a smoker
Wanting their
Nicotine,
You draw me in.

With a grin
Not unlike a
Crescent moon's,
You draw me in.

Like an alcoholic
searching for
one last drop of Gin,
You draw me in.

Like a little lamb,
Drawn to a lion
In search of a friend,
You draw me in.

I hope you have another drink
I hope it tastes as sweet as you like them
I hope it burns just the right way
I hope it makes you warm inside
I hope it keeps you happy
I hope you have another drink
I hope it tastes like the last one
I hope it burns all the same
I hope it ignites a flame inside you
I hope it keeps you sane
I hope you have another drink
I hope it tastes like hell
I hope it seeps into your bloodstream and burns your whole body
I hope the fire inside consumes you
And I hope it doesn't keep you alive

I just don’t know how to be alone.
All I find comfort in seems to be that too clear liquid
that smells
too much like rubbing alcohol,
but tastes
like relief in a bottle.
It burns down my throat
but it feels like a heaven
I didn’t have to die to get to.
It’s peace in a place of chaos.
A pool in the midst of summer’s fire.

He goes to the basement, without a word he flys
To grab a sufficent sourse of numbness
To write freely and speak not so clearly
But to engage of times of the unknown and times of Modern times
The weather tide, the things of our demise
And the music rides, and the glass clinks
Goodbye to on time
hello to sweet dreams highs

Rummy is a card game
*** isn't for the hard weak
It's not win to fame when you're
Slugging back ***

It's not fun, it gags and try's to overthrow your reflexes
To misconcept your reasons
Why *** is for pirates and not for mere kitchen writers

She never was the same
After they took her liquer away

I am a gypsy wanderer.
The only home
I have ever known
Is my body.
And I destroy it.
Those like me
Can never have a home.
So I fill my lungs
With cigarette smoke,
My skin with scars
And my blood with *****.

I've become an alcoholic.
I drink until its socially acceptable
to lock myself in my room
to avoid the plague of humanity
dwelling in the revealing sunlight,
orange caked faces melting into the dirt.