amongst all this frivolity
im ingesting the public view, no apologies.
As I'm taken under, I can feel my own plunder
like that **** that stinks, I surely belong in the gutter
Dont Mutter. A single word is splattered.
On the wall, i'm going slowly like a decrepit crawl
draining down, hell bound, i'm in the mix, just of the crowd.
Dancing and prancing and donating the hate,
im out of sorts at dinner, without a plate.
Uninvited guest, pounding in my chest.
I'm drunk, and everything in life is looking like a giant mess.
Writing while your drunk can be a great breakthrough or a terrible mistake.
