I was once a poet

I was once a poet.
A thorough-bread manifestation of
Liquified similies and
Metaphoric sombreness

I once possessed the methodical
Ways of devouring beastly heartaches
And unphatomable powers of
Causing symbolic mayhem with
Ink and paper.
I onced sliced piercing carvings
Through disproportioned souls
And lifeless foetuses.

Now I sit on the bed-side of
A dying creation.

Inhaling till the depths of my
Lungs cough out blood-infested tears.
Crawling to my grave by proclaiming
My weaknesses to triple-distiled
Whiskey bottles and worn out beer bottles.
The divinity and tranquility of my
Untainted soul hovers beneath my death.

I was once a poet but now I'm just an
Empty Holocaust.