Thou drowned und art in heaven (fuck you I'm too high to be drunk)

 
I haven't been sober in a month
Spent it riding the wildest empty bottles into the mildest thick skinned breezes.
Don't now how I started or why I'll stop.
Don't know why I feel guilt towards a god I don't believe in.
Disloyalty for dreams I can't believe in with ones I won't dream to think of.
I've never risen above problems and breathed cold breaths of clarity.
Never been higher than these murky sunken clever clouds of frantic fires.
The ones dripping with regret.
It must run even deeper than the river  I'm fond of drowning in.
But dead is dead, at least for the time.
Somehow don't ever feel it though.
Lets just hope honesty doesn't ask for CPR.