Wet rag on a bar top

 

So thirsty, but I know

if I seek escape

in that dirty magic

I'll just end up

another statistic.

Never again will I sink

to worship that which I crave.

Another grave with a bottle

poured every year,

all my other achievements

would count for nothing,

just remembered for the cheer.

 

All you find is misery in those

bleary moments.

The dreary worm of loneliness

lives at the foot of a bottle.

Spilling its tales to anyone that will listen,

tales that always revolve around this

glass shell cocoon.

A dead-end road to a grave dug too soon

lies in wait, at the staggered end

of a trippy barroom.

 

The faded remnants of yesterday

sit and listen, before draining away

along the bar top, away from the shattered

glass that glistens, like a faded memory,

like a bloodstained scythe blade

under the red neon glow

that illuminates the remains.

I turned my back on the ghosts,

showing my distain.

I'd already stained my mind enough

been through so much pain,

watching the reflection in the mirror sheen,

slowly morph and change.

 

Ghosts starting to wane,

but like birds they always return

home to roost again.

 

So thirsty, 

if I ever again let that poison In

then the demons win,

If I let go of this strand so thin,

my reality will start to fray.

I lived my days loving you.

Now I fear roundabouts

because they remind me

of my battles to pull through,

after too many nights

worshiping the way you made

my room spin,

left me black and blue, pooled in

Vomit residue.

 

Never again

I promise myself.

Never again

do I ever want to feel

deaths chilly hand,

cold, bony and still,

stroking my clammy skin

from being so ill.

Never again.

I promise myself

I need to start

to look after my health.

 

 

Thanks for reading
Follow this link for more.
https://linktr.ee/Wordsandfluff

 
You can find my New books
"Tales from the 44A" and "Stations
here
https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0DBKXPN13/
and here

https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0DFV8N7XH

 

Please buy a copy if you can

it would really help me
continue to do this.

Peace, Love & Poetry
Kyle