I woke
From a fitful sleep
Where I dreamt
You had died.
You took your final sip of poison
And with its glisten
Still on your lips
You told me that you’d be ok.
But your next breath,
It never came.
You disappeared
Right in front of me.
You sank into the ground,
Swallowed whole by the earth.
You returned to dust
That clouded my path
And I no longer knew
Which way to go.

Another place
And muslim can attest to
Is that darkness
Also dwells with in
The *** bottle
Opening the dark parts of
The mind

When I was five
I watched my father drink  
until his cheeks were rosy pink
but I didn’t think anything of  
it as he playfully chased me on my bike
on a warm August evening.  
The lower the sun sank into the earth,
the more Budweiser cans would open  
and my mother would turn a blind eye
so I couldn’t tell how tired and solemn she looked
until I was sixteen and I noticed they didn’t talk anymore.
My father couldn’t look at me when he asked how my day was,
pouring another can of beer into a glass
and the foam poured over the rim  
just like my anger and pure resentment
for the man who used to make me laugh until I cried
and now the tears soon flowed for different reasons. .  
My parent’s relationship crumbled as did my heart  
as I watched my father’s alcohol intake increase  
and the love I thought he had for me vanish.  


“Remember when you cried when I got my driver’s license?”
I was ignored as he swirled beer around in his glass.  
“Do you still care? Don’t blame this on me.”
A simple text he sent
to his own daughter  
“I never want to see you again.”
Deep in the core of my being resided a hatred  
for a sorry human being who dared to call himself a man
once his true feelings revealed themselves.  
Soon I was twenty five and I found myself still wondering
why I was blamed for his own disease  
and I realized I could be as boiling angry, hurt, and confused  
and clench my fists until they burned just hearing his name
it just wouldn’t change anything.  
He has become a floating memory creeping
deeper and deeper  
in the back of my mind  
drowning in liquor until he completely fades.

What I would give to sip you all day and all night
You numb this old body and make it tingle with delight.
I'm a woman, both strong and proud
And yet I cling to you, my darling, the keeper of my shroud.

Oh shine on me, moonshine
And smile that glorious smile
Encapsulate me in your arms
And let us reminisce for a while

With you I am free
'Bout as free as these dazed eyes can see.
Oh Lord, I think you’ve got your grips in me
I love you, babe, because, to me, you are liberty

Oh but not just that—no,
don’t let me sell you short
I love you for your courage, honey
For I am the most dependent sort

If all the corks from all the bottles of wine I’ve drunk
were to fall into my lap I’d promptly be buried
and likely suffocate.

If in their crates all the bottles of wine I’ve drunk
were to appear clean and unbroken
I could build a house.

If corks and bottles and crates were not lost to me
floor mat sea glass bricolage
I could scrape the sky.

Relapse tastes like cheap beer and clenched fists
Lust for life and homelessness

Flooded with nostalgia from the very first sip
Love is a cold aluminum kiss
Hazy dazed laziness
Sunshine & spit
Miller Lite is my favorite weapon
Toxic intoxicated entanglement
Liquid courage & devious motivation
Criminal elixir
Watch me drink the poison expecting everyone else to die
I'm only lying because I love you
Flame too hot to touch
Burning down everything... I cared about it all once.
Myself, my life, my reputation
But what's the f*cking point?
Giving a **** is just premeditated disappointment.
How will I ever get out of this labyrinth?
The inevitable irresistible slip, over and over
All over this meaningless existence

I carry the torch of this misery.
The bearer of all secrets that kept us terminally sick.
Held hostage by brokenness
Hostess to alcoholism, cynicism, paranoid delusions
A pillar upon which a false empire was built?
Was the straw that broke the camel's back composed of grass or guilt?

A person who feels like home can be dangerous when you carry the blame of destroying the one you grew in.

Emerged from my isolation to walk under the stars.
$11.11 was the total for my holiday purchase of alcohol and cigarettes
I wished upon a scar that I would one day grow to be whole.
I listened to your playlist on the cold walk home.

These metaphors for living pure are cheesy
All existence is chaos
Anthems of anger, ballads for those who have lost
Holding fading souls and cradling hearts like hammocks for the homeless

There are forbidden things bursting forth from beneath my tongue like blooming flowers from the ground.
Urging me to the arms of strangers.
No, there will never be another special one, no like-minded soul to trust and confide in. My past rusts within me.

I am a human vault with no combination. Feeling nostalgic again for relationships I ruined.
On purpose in distrust I'm alone with all this lust again.
Sometimes self-awareness feels like a sham.
Will I ever know who I am?

Knowing me is more an eternal sigh and shake of the head than a pleasure.
I wish I was alright but I just might have to become okay with being all wrong forever.
Band-aids don't work on hearts.

Good things aren't the only things that fall apart. Nobody starts out exactly where they need to be.
The journey is the best part, though it isn't always pretty.
"I'd rather be a lonely forest than a busy street."
We all can be ugly, we all can be beautiful.
Most importantly, we all can be whoever we want to be.

I want to stop obsessing over the wound and pay attention to the healing.
Accept the past, begin forgiving.
Trek the bumpy road ahead to self-love and recovery.

i want to empty my brain
free myself of never ending pain, the weight of these chains
i want to drive in the rain, never see the east coast again
wishing all this needless suffering could be forgotten
but is my past truly the root of why I feel so rotten?
is retaliation against these feelings of meaninglessness ever going to lift the curse?
any grandeur is a fantasy it's true I'm delusional. the cycling is endless, of this i am sure.
how can i reverse the sinking thinking that takes me so low my only answer is drinking?
making goals, feeling love, pulls me out from these holes I've dug.
my impatience is unsatisfied when i am reminded (as i always am) enlightenment and contentment take time

Death and I are drinking a beer
while writing the words
to a love song that you'll never hear

We have scripted your eulogy
although you are alive
Its because you are dead to me

Buried inside my lungs
never to be spoken of  
cut off from my tongue

You were the living poison
only killing yourself
with all your pathetic reasons

Because Death and I
are better friends
than you and your lies

I'd rather drink myself to Death
and be his best friend
than be close enough to feel your breath