My drug of choice

from thought to page my will lost

congested thinking caused by a weight too great for me to bear

it’s looks deceived me and brought my knees to buckle under the pressure

I reach grasping grabbing begging pleading for a crutch

the warm liquid hits my tongue and is unpleasant yet I welcome it

heats my throat and I can not seem to swallow fast enough

only to tip the glass and suffer the consequence

as my heart suffers the slow leak and you you’re sound asleep

by mornings early light I will be cast afloat on my beloved ocean

my pen sure to bleed once more

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