In a mess, I awake to the feeling
I didn’t do it,
so I puke and I crawl and I drink
just to do it all again.
At night, I am needlessly obsessive in
wasting time,
only maudlin with alcohol stained tears
alone in a bathroom stall.
In the harsh darkness, my shadow falls
to its knees
reckless and voluntarily debauched
can’t stop the sins from slipping out.
At times, I have discovered myself
to be obscene
so I scream instead of honeyed whispering
begging for the familiar collapse.
Crazed, I shake my hair out and leave
before you notice,
walking like a shameless heretic
to find the next version of myself.
For a moment, I twist and turn sour
in your mouth,
and if you thought kissing me would save me,
you were wrong.
