Sometimes I want to eat this pack of cigarettes whole
Mostly because I can't stomach my weed
Or is it because I'm too careful with my liquor
Always enough to feel it the next day
Ahhh the next day
Is that why I'm still convincing myself to hold on so tightly to this bottle?
Well I don't actually smoke cigarettes
If admitting would be the first step there's my confession
The first step over broken glass bottles
Okay, I'm not an alcoholic either
I am addicted to feeling of something dangerous soaking into my wounds
It is sterile after all
The alcohol I mean
You're not
You are the farthest thing from cleaning a wound
You are an infection
Something so much worse than an addiction
You reach higher than top shelf liquor
You treat me as if I'm a cloud of smoke
A mouthwatering nicotine lingering in the vapors only to disappear into blank space
I'm everything you need right now
Latter on I'll be the shadow of that girl once your high has dropped you off
I'll be the flame that lights your herb
Once so bright
Now burning at the edges
If you truly see me
Kaleidoscope eyes if that must be
I'm also a reach above top shelf
Expensive to touch
Even if you can't say it out loud
You need me the most
It's nauseating how much I need you too
YOU ARE READING
Before I Blackout
PoetryMy best work is done when I'm on the edge of blacking out, when you finally stop trying to pretend you have a grip on what runs though your mind, you should try writing with your eyes half closed and your mind wide open. This may be an on going pro...
