Words atop words
Undoubtedly slurred
Vision in circles
Again and over
Over and again
So blurred
That kind of reality
It lasts an eternity
And nothing
Nothing at all
Each and every searing shot
Like a bullet in the throat
Fills you with a fire so brief
Violent in its moment
Short, sick, sweet
Then, the cool relief
Bottle after bottle
Lends a beautiful confidence
A smile from ear to ear
And in that moment you’re alive
Attached to nothing
Filled like the glass bottle
From which you sip
Filled up high
With gratitude of everything
Of everyone
Of here.
writing about being drunk whilst sober is a lot harder than i thought
