this is why i don’t drink alone

12 Jan

This is why I don’t drink alone.

The real. The pain. The violent.
The utter remorse, and I pour like liquid against the bathroom floor.
And I sooothe like mercy.
Violent and vivid like blood on my pillow.

This is why I don’t drink alone.

I stab and I prune and I hate so deeply like fire against the core.

I am real but I die.
I die.
I die.
I die.
I fucking unfold.

And this is why I don’t drink alone.

I am crimson hands to the mold.

I build undry,
ground to the sky.
Heat;

then the lights down low.

and I unknow what life is to be told.

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