3.2.12 (first drunk thoughts after a week of not drinking and i wish i hadn't drank, but i'm glad i did or else i wouldn't have put into words how i feel at this exact moment in time)

i've got too many thoughts

running round my brain

i've been told they aren't bad

but i don't quite feel the same

they play tricks on me

through the day into night

i end up so confused

i end up so full of fright

the endless scheming

plotting out another life

it gets so tiresome

when things are black & white

i've tried so hard

to not pay attention to

the endless numbers

of troubles that haunt you

but i know i still

succumb in the same way

to the trials and boredoms

we must rise above and stay.

but i cannot help it

if i grow distracted by

an unrivaled beauty

some personal surprise

because i never see it coming

i never know what to expect

but i expect more lonesome longing

or else i cannot accept

a future more bright than now

one capable of real life

but i know that it is out there

so until then i will try

3.2.12 (i'm drunk and writing this freely)

some nights
you have
a crisis,
maybe two,
but that's ok.
some nights
you drink
a bit that seems
small
but feels a lot.
everything gets
narrow...
your life,
your longings,
your feelings...
i wonder,
am i only sad
when i drink,
or am i always sad
and just think about it
when i drink?

3.1.12 (die smiling)

to rags
was i born,
and in rags
will i end,
but rest assured,
i will leave
this world
with a smile
on my face.

3.1.12 (soggy)

rusty joints
and soggy bones
ache
beneath the weight
of a heavy heart.
my brain
tries to compensate,
but it gets
tiresome
trying to
maintain.

3.1.12 (lazy)

i call myself
lazy,
but i'm not
so sure.
i see people
whose priorities
are actually
backwards,
and know
that when i'm
lazy,
its because
my emotions
have stolen
my motivation.

3.1.12 (patience)

patience
is the hardest
thing to have.
the waiting
between now
and later
gets hard.
i want to be
the person i envision
myself being,
but the journey
goes ever on.
so i must be
patient.

3.1.12 (bedside)

some days
i wake up
on the wrong side
of the bed,
and some days
i wake up
on the right side.
i think
i woke up
in the middle
today.

3.1.12 (lives)

seconds,

minutes,

hours,

days,

weeks,

months,

years.

this is

our lives.

strange

that something

so seemingly small

means so much,

while passing so quickly (slowly).

3.1.12 (days)

days
fly by
and some
are good,
and some
are bad,
but i don't want
to forget
a single one.

3.1.12 (never again)

i've done
wrong,
i know.
it's happened
to me,
and i know
how it feels.
being a placeholder,
a substitute lover,
is a job for
no one.
i'm sorry,
never again.