BOOZE
Author notes: This is my first attempt for poetry. And yes I am an alcoholic and this story is nothing pretty. It was fun to write a poem and I keep updating until I have topics.
Alcohol is my love, my passion, my hobby.
I´m looking above, getting a ration, I´m gonna vomit.
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I fall on my knee.
I´m puking straight out.
And what do I see?
A black fucking cloud.
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My legs are shaking, can´t move just well.
The vomits are leaking like water from well.
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I can´t stand it, no more, please don´t.
But my stomach keeps throwing, no ending, no stop.
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When I finish, my friend helps me up.
And he said "Let´s walk in the park."
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The path was long and I was far from sober.
He told me "Don´t give up! It´s far from over."
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I want no wine no beer
It´s weak and tastes like shit.
I don´t want it here.
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It was raining and I felt like covered in cum.
And my friend told me "Here´s a bottle of rum."
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I drunk it with cola, the best drink I had.
But no matter what, it was stuck in my head.
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"How much more booze do you have?"
"Enough to stop your sadness and wrath."
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Then he pulled a bottle, I felt little risky.
Soon I realised, it´s a bottle of whisky.
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I have problems with my living.
But they disappear when I´m drinking.
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I pour the whisky, then the vodka.
Getting so wasted right now.
I feel so frisky I moo like a cow.
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I don´t get it,
I don´t care,
But we´ll make it.
I just swear.
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We finish the whisky, I´m grasping for gin.
The rate of toxicity rise under my skin.
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I fill my belly with the liquid happiness,
feeling better in that very moment.
Forgetting the feeling of tortured unluckiness
and the pain of eternal torment.
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The war in my heart is never ending.
With booze the feelings just keep fading.
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He tells me "Keep drinking my friend."
And I knew, it´s comming to the end.
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It keeps me happy and it makes me bad.
After some time I woke in my bed.
THE END