Wet Eyes

Shove all the booze aside,
Today all I want is to get drunk..
On life, the stupid stubborn witch.
She entices with a few moments,
Only to drag me down with tears.
But still like the best of friends,
We meet and crib from time to time.
I reach out for him in the middle of the night,
And then I realise I've forgotten...
His smell, touch, the roughness of his beard.
Only memories of scratches line my cheek.
And the tears that had followed,
But they were kind, they left no mark.
I want to drink on life's mirthless frivolity.
When it takes my breath away, in shock..
And just sometimes, in surprise!
In its stupor, I want to dream.
Of endless tommorows, survival, and existence.
How I exist just by breathing, just by being.
But mostly of my dreams, the soggy ones.
The ones I'd shoved under the carpet.
Like dirty litter, thinking it'd be forgotten.
I want to cut my hands in picking those broken shreds,
And lovingly put them to sleep on my pillow.
Next to my drunken head and wet eyes.


Little Bird said...

So who is he?

Some kind of courage. said...

Wow, I actually related to this..
Your writings are so deep,
I think I can find a bit myself in your works. xo <3

A Poetess said...

Thank you for commenting.

It gives me hope.