or so the tragedy goes
the two of us, we
crawled through each other's
veins, in fury, in passion, in my lust
for life, for a taste of the universe
on the tip of my tongue, tipped back
trickled down my throat, the burn of smoke and
a thousand wars:
i became teardrops sliding down cheeks
the siren call of sex and violence
purple wreath of bruises around my neck
lungs overflowing with ichor and ethanol
raise a glass to the both of us
(to dancing with the moon and my shadow)
to waxing lyrical under a waning sky, to reaching
the end of the world, only to find that folding it
back takes you to the beginning
raise a glass to sobriety
to loneliness
to art for art's sake
to finding meaning at the bottom of a four hundred dollar bottle of absolut or
the sixth pill taken in an attempt to court ending-it-all
(to the excessive and inexplicable use of parentheses)
so for the last time, raise a glass to self
awareness
to breaking the fourth wall
to knowing what's right and doing what's wrong
to smashing the bottle against that wall
i hereby swear off alcohol
🐝 - Written after a regrettable night. Reference to Li Bai's 'Drinking alone under the moon', which is a very relatable poem even by modern standards.