Tag Archives: alcohol

Inebriated

a call came

from the night

when loneliness

was rarely sober

.

it asked if they

needed the stars

and if they could

possibly come over

.

loneliness drank

some stale wine

and stared at the

concerned moon

.

“i never sleep”

was the slurred reply

“i’m afraid that

you arrived far too soon.”

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Self-Esteemed

Well, I guess I should stick up for myself
But I really think it’s better this way
The more you suffer, the more it shows
You really care, right?

~*~

“I hate myself.”

She proclaims with

A lethal smile that stung

Like poured alcohol

And it burned going down

Her twisted throat just as much

.

“I wish you didn’t.”

Replied no one with

A deadly silence that drowned

Like an empty ocean

And the pressure crushed

Her bleeding lungs just as much.

~*~

Now I know I’m being used
That’s okay, man, ’cause I like the abuse
I know she’s playing with me
That’s okay ’cause I got no self-esteem…

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teeter totter teetotaler

“I want devil horns, I wanna breathe in your rush…”

~*~

pour over

like the gin and tonic

you’ve been nursing

this entire night now

saying you’re pathetic

.

throw out

the shame you’ve had

vilifying every notion

and sense of rationality

numbing your emotion

.

break down

like the shattered mirror

in your now-empty pocket

cracking under your weight

saying that you never had it

.

clean in

the disaster you started

with unsteady shaky eyes

and red bloodshot hands

saying it’s all in your head

.

sober up

wasting these days are over

and this escape is peripatetic

whatever you think you took

saying it’s all simply bullshit.

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Chase Atlantic

For you, I chased down atlantic until it was drained and empty, consuming every last drop, and still, you were thirsty.

Xans, Oxy, gram, adderall, molly, vicodin, ketamine, codeine, amphetamine, heroin, every medication legal and illegal you selfishly overdosed on like it’s the sweetest candy, drugs and money fucking everything up, riding the waves, breathing in the ozone layer and craving the vaporous atmosphere, until all you could hear are birds singing at midnight and all your blank glazed eyes could see where pink shadows coalescing in the basement and the sound of your own synesthetic undersea voice, sewn up into crude stitches before it shatters soundlessly against the restless pastel ghosts; and you find out you were uncomfortably lying on your back in the bedroom floor all along, staring at the unlit ceiling dripping what you thought were your own tears but turned out to be rainwater, dial tone screeching your garbled songs, trying to call nobody at half past four in the morning, worn-down carpet igniting the smoke alarms with your interminable vices. I could only wish to hell that I was there to put it out.

There was a certain elegant delicacy in your tactlessly constructed words, soft beatnik aspersion and aggressive indie slurs romancing and entrancing my chilled spine, humming saxophone amid the alluring amalgamation of incoherent voices intertwining together into a strange, tangible, panicking tranquil. It was an art form in itself, inimitable, one of a kind, scattered accentuation your personal intricate signature. Every careless lilt about the dangerous pseudonymous girls you slept with last night, Angie, Cassie, Roxy, and the pill-popping pharmacists you’ll hold up with a gun as soon as the sun hits tomorrow. All these unsettling courtesies set in three parts of pastel grey and explicit roses, the dalliance and the nostalgia of everything, you were speaking in a foreign language only the truly sick in the head could properly understand, and the way you talked about all the mental pressure and self-esteem and choking anxiety so goddamn beguilingly, the way you talked about addiction as if you weren’t an addiction in itself, the way you just fucking aren’t, it got me overdosing on the panoply panache and sovereign shit on your bedside, but I was so into it.

How many times have you made my pulse beat when it was no longer mine? Every single afternoon, I wake up with a stabbing jolt like a guillotine’s rope pulled tight against my throat, gasping and desiring desperately for more, more of your prevarications. It was a talk show tactic, and you were the host telling me to talk slow and tell no lies, and I was your prize trophy, spilling my secrets and picking my battles cautiously, even though I knew that you were probably lying to me all along. The world was on your shoulders, angels hissing temptations under your skin, and we danced to the beat of your laughter and talked endless miles of film spiels about friends and no friends, gravity and good vibes, church walls and dancing in the dark with the devil, indiscretions and junkie stories high on adrenaline and dopamine, driving too fast and run over by the cops and swimming and thrashing in paradise until we’re so much higher than before, and everything was rhapsodic…until you hit the trigger and got me begging on my bleeding knees again. I’m scratching my nails, shivering madly, abusing my liver, and tearing the veins off my dead-ass heart as you killed my sanity, and baby I was only 23.

I’m obsessive. You said hold your breath, you’ll save me from the fading injections and we’ll run away right here to the underside of the world, and I won’t need to miss you and your anchor tattoo. And fuck it, but I believed all your twisted promises so fervently. I didn’t expect to fall instantaneous victim for such a scrupulous stratagem, this alternative relativity of drugs and parties not my accustomed niche, fucking up this whole thing. I was married to the screaming voices that serenade me everyday and haunt me every night, and I was theirs to render completely deaf into freedom; until you came out of nowhere and divorced me from the nightmares, and you incarcerated me—you made me even worse. You’re a psychopathic fringe wearing a smile on your face and holding a knife in your hand, you’re becoming a work of art. You don’t look too sane when you act like that, and babe, you won’t live too long with a mind like that. I was always fastidious about the taste of serotonin that I place against my lips, but even though it’s fire I’m kissing now, I’ve already been burnt, I fucking have. And I love counting the cigarette stains in my fragile marred skin, sepia-shaded nicotine tattooed permanently between my fingertips, branding me with your whispered name. My parents say I’m crazy, but I only wanna be buried six feet under your bed, ready to meddle about and smoke the cancerous stars away with you anytime. They say be rational about these things, but I stopped being reasonable the moment I listened to your drugstore symphonies and drowned in your cheap perfume. This chemical destruction is beautiful. I’ll keep it up, and I’ll keep riding the waves, crashing into you once more. And why stop at all? Okay is all I know right now. Mama I’m sorry, but reality’s boring.

For you, I’ll chase down atlantic until I’m drained and empty, consuming every last drop, and still, I’ll be thirsty for your eyes.

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Filed under Prose

how to kill a demon

“Trigger my nightmare once again…”

~*~

i’m holding on

too tight for comfort

the thoughts in my head

are deathless; immortal

they cannot be killed

by mere tylenol or advil

or even ativan alone

but maybe alcohol can

fucking drown them

or starving their bloodlust

will slowly pick them out

and if all else fails, then

maybe a bullet straight to

their hearts will do the trick.

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Filed under Poetry

Chronicles of the Senseless and the Sleepless: Staying Sober

Well now this could be the last of all the rides we take
So hold on tight and don’t look back
We don’t care about the message or the rules they make
We’ll find you when the sun goes black…

~*~

And we proclaim that I don’t look the same as I did yesterday

Every bruise and blemish counted is just another reason for me to stay

If misery was punishment, then we’re both headed for the guillotine

But I’d rather be decapitated and headless than an overthinking machine

Every story we’ve had to throw, profanity mixed casually like cocktails

Only the starrified night and empty pavements can witness our fails

Waging a war against murderers lurking in the shadows of the city

Sodium streetlamps and laughter illuminating in each other’s company

Hands painted black, music caught between the skins of our teeth

Verboten made verbatim, calculating in every sense of blame and defeat

Maybe we won’t forget the good times, and let the bad times go to hell

Devil may care but we won’t mind, say but don’t tell, give what you can sell

One last drink to toast over, before this damn year gives way and finally breaks

Shots for every adventure and misfortune, one for every felicity and mistake

Alcohol to alleviate the drowsiness, and coffee to nurse the raging stomachaches

I may be a shambling mess, but for this I don’t mind staying just an hour more awake.

~*~

And you only live forever in the lights you make
When we were young we used to say
That you only hear the music when your heart begins to break
Now we are the kids from yesterday…

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blood and whiskey

You’ve got to quit your little charade
And join the freak parade
Now that your road has been paved
From conception to your grave
There are enormous things to do
Others’ practices to eschew
To be better than you is impossible to do
But the world won’t stop without you!

~*~

sin after sin

vice after vice

piling them all in

i’m done playing nice

underhanded pains

underage drinking

do i give a fuck

i’m slowly sinking?

being sober is too taxing

feeling is such a drag

overthinking is caustic

my heart is making me gag

bitter tastes good

and wrong feels right

let’s screw up my system

one by one tonight

one for flesh, mutilated

two for kidney, bathed in salt

three for liver, fried away

four for system, sleep default

five for the soul i thought

i could finally save then

but i revert into misery

again and again and again

where’s the harm

in a little indulgence

when all life’s given you

is bullshit and nonsense?

don’t know what i’m doing

i don’t want to even mind

all i care about is transgressions

and i’m falling behind

so numb i couldn’t even feel

the sound of my voice

and i laugh without smiling

a horrible fucking noise

trying to forget the mistakes

that i tallied in crimson

i’m cutting my pain in half

taking advice from king solomon

because innocence is fragile

and soon it will goddamn shatter

until your regretful stupidity

is all that even matters

sin after sin, vice after vice

it gets better they say, but fuck, it’s all lies

and i’m only trying to have some fun

in a hellhole of an existence that offers me none.

~*~

You’re only as elegant as your actions let you be
A piece of chaos related phylogenetically
To every living organ system, they’re siblings don’t you see
The earth rotates and will revolve without you constantly.

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somniloquy

pastel laughter, petals of umber

lip-gloss stains and sweet december

.

brick wall steps, stepping stones

withering glares, i contemplate alone

.

seven mysteries i don’t dare speak

magicians fleet in magic tricks

.

intervals lead to cyanide infinity

trapped in a loop of tangible vanity

.

tasting alcohol and numbing smiles

maybe i’ll stay here for a while

.

midnight calm and oceans deep

i’ll keep my thoughts in the morning

and talk in my sleep.

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Filed under Poetry

Leave The Truth Alone

There’s nothing really left to say
And I don’t need you to explain
We don’t need those lines
So tired of living in the past
So if we’re gonna make it last
We should leave it all behind
I’d rather you lie than throw it all away…

~*~

I’ll beat you out when you talk your candid games

You said love, I say brainwashed, it’s just the same

Think you can handle the kilometres on my gauge

Step on the pedal honey, kill the switch, disengage

.

So just kick my shins, I’ll fucking jump off the ceiling

They think it’s blatant suicide, but it has no meaning

Cheers to poisons gurgling at the back of our throats

Who knew living out the rest would be my footnote?

.

The lowest type tries to burn the oceans with a match

And marionettes pretty girls, with no strings attached

But the doctors won’t hit me up with more medication

Guess I’m not meant for surgeries and wasted sedation

.

Tonight I met the sun and moon drinking at a 24/7 bar

They told me to fuck off, they don’t got any more stars

And the sky has turned serrated from the lacerated eyes

I’m done making vicious promises, through playing nice

.

Don’t you dare take the trite polygraph out of my tongue

That gin and tonic does our thing, have ten shots for fun

And while we’re at it, shooting blank rounds at the wind

Say this story’s a threadbare hoax, just another banal sin.

~*~

How deep do you wanna go?
Don’t you know that some things
Are better left alone?
They’re better left alone…

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iodine tongue

pardon me

for being unable

to fucking heal

like you easily do

as you talk with

an isopropyl mouth

stinging these cuts

like it helped to sew

so pardon me

for being unable

to fucking heal

like you easily do

and it doesn’t really

help that you’ve

ripped the band-aid

off my bloody wound.

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Filed under Poetry