"Weathered and Seasoned."

Drink this liquid elixir that I'm
subjected to, to appease the
relentless aching inside and
to quell the shakes that don't
ease with time

Then the Valium to hopefully
sedate the beast that's hiding
but none-the-less, gnawing-
away on my insides

He's in there, in my soul but,
his will is surely seeping into
my mind, attempting to usurp
full control

I've been here many times
before...

Countless empty bottles;
finished entirely, without a
drop left inside, to Testify
against me that I'm not serious
about its grip

Many, mostly unrememberable
nights on cold tile, bathroom
floors: not because I threw it
all up, but, because the cold
texture felt so relieving against
hot flesh

Interesting what the unseemingly
little things can do to give ease to
the restless soul

World-worn, battle-scarred and
weathered beyond remorse...

Don't need any self-loathing anyways
to make me feel shame for myself;
after all, I'm Kosher with the way I am...

If with me, you have a problemo, then
about that...

"I don't Give a Fuck,"