Party is over

 

The party

is over,

those days

where love

was found

flowing from a bottle.

Flooding the gutters

where I'd find myself.

Those days have been

taken away from me

stained glass

beer bottle green, 

face mottled with acne.

Recycled

into something

much more pretty.

The party is over

and I miss nothing.

 

The party is over

I spent my time

in gloomy kitchens.

Not wanting

to be in the midst, but desperate

to fit in, still wearing a fake grin.

Endless grim

spinning rooms

that made me nauseous and sick.

The party left 

whilst I was in a haze

and I didn't miss a thing.

 

The party is over

hours no longer

lost in the daze,

of sheets and

pillow hideaways.

No longer stumbling

the same roads

that never seem

to reveal anything,

places I never knew.

avoiding the sun rays.

The reflection in the mirror,

not me. Just another face

in this party of misery

looking down on me with disdain.

The party is over.

I never have to go back again

and I don't miss a thing.

 

The party is over 

now I walk in straight lines,

I see clearly, I enjoy the scenery.

No more gargled screams

when I wake from fractured dreams.

No more fake friends,

No more sleeping

in strange places.

The party is over

and I don't miss a thing.

 

 

 

Thanks for reading

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Peace, Love & Poetry 

 

Kyle