attendance fumbling my entrance array passionately late i pull off my tie and crashing here without apology all-ready a crowd sweated room low ceiling candy glass munching underfoot the senses are rushed upon fuming lit up and strobing with the chaotic humour and tumorous smells furious ingestion swellings and releases pelling and girling with the dances hectic music making hero's of uz all a steaming sot lady lands before me laughing she climbs me till her bare feet find ground naked from the waist up her dress has fallen into a trampled magpie tail doughy features unfocused my heart is gurning with ruckus installed with an addicts engine it caves and puffs for attention these are my people these are my people now that they're reached their peak of ******* inebriation and raving chorus i am drawn imediate into the density
I was feeling ill even though I hadn't drank for several days. -or at least a day for sure. I needed eggs and bacon and maybe a couple of beers. In the end I had to settle for bread and butter and a five dollar bottle of wine.
moving backwards farther than before can’t look at myself anymore they made me bruise my skin generosity is lame authenticity is a facade your empty promises will buy it all jealousy resides in my heart to this day because of them flashbacks haunt me green lights guide me down away from reality save me from my former a sad child out for revenge cold to touch fully detached and shaking haunting visions of time spent in delusion lie to feel lie to escape feel the power behind that behind the bile and tears were strength i regret the times when i had it all nights spent with myself loathing my own a boken mirror is like drinking alone sometimes i think im dying but i’m not worth saving break the cycle but what’s the point
Your memories are a poem Presented to me at the end of the bar. Alone & fleeting; an escape from reality. Wanting to take part in the meeting Of strangers; A variety of faces exchanging ****** temptation disguised as liquid courage. Chased by the thought of not being alone Your memories are a poem Refilled soon as it's emptied. Wished away, Wanting to be pursued In exchange for monetary currency. Bad ideas that roam the ideology of good, You fill me, I feel you. I stand & I stumble around the thought of you. You start to leave me soon as I start to feel you