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Manfred Kriger Aug 2019
Dry.
Parched.
Thisty.
Sand.

Hallucination?
Oasis?
Mirage?
Paradi­se?

My
tongue
yearns
for
a
drop
of
life.
Akira Chinen Jul 2016
I'm too old for this, I just can't drink like I use too... but I can't stop myself either.  Just one more... and another... and one more and another round.  Drinking it all down, my head throbbing the whole time...  My hearts gonna give any day now.  I can feel it bleeding through my ribs as I drain another hour out of a bottle, another bottle lost to the sea of my addiction... this infinite ocean of blue euphoria.  I tell myself just one more... and hours pass and I'm still thisty for more.  I fall asleep with another full shot in my hand and that doesn't slow me down.  Doing the same ****** thing in my sleep, dreaming only makes it worse.  In this ethereal state every part of me is drunk and drinking nonstop... Here my heart is obnoxious and loud, shouting its lungs out... bragging about how wasted and trashed and how ******* good it feels.  Buying round after round for the rest of me.  I can't stop it, not a single aspect of me able to refuse the poison being poured into glass after glass.  Its stronger than *** or whiskey or moonshine or the devils sweat or gods blood... The glass never even had to touch my lips and I was hooked.  Now every minute of every hour of everyday, there is not a single moment when my heart isn't  drinking in another as it beats in this drunken dream.  In every glass and every bottle and every shot is a picture of you

— The End —