DiG (Poem 34)

Holding the bottle of London dry gin in my hand
My lips were wet from the Taste  
Not one drop of it I wasted    
No other moments could replace it    
Remember that one time in the stall?    
I slept through the call    
I woke up too late  
They told me I wasn’t in a safe place    
And I asked why didn’t he breathe his sweat breath on me  
So I could experience this life one more time    
These eyes are seeing from the bottom up  
I took the communion    
and    
I    
still    
Wanted    
to    
jump    
Off the roof of my thoughts    
The pressure is too much    
I’m not trying to come up    
for air    
From the glass  
I’m in the cabinet looking for the rest of my stash    
it’s just me, naked, the glass    
and the bottle    
Guess which one got filled first?  
I’m on the stairs    
stumbling  
My eyes meeting    
with    
judgmental stares    
I can hear them mumbling    
The demons in my ear  
or is all in my mind?  
I shall not fear    
Got the weapon in the bottle    
And I keep it near so I don’t have to    
dig it up  
When I get scared  I pick it up!!!  
Close enough to the tip of my tongue    
So I can take more than a sip  
Going through my body I can feel the sensation through my clit    
   
I can’t slip though    
the lines of grins anymore  
I can’t write lines of my sins anymore    
It’s truth    
OR    
I dare    
Myself    
to still F-N care to get Help  
Googling the Psyches on Yelp!  
   
 Pt 2    
Through all my F-###N dirt,    
my mind feels this loneliness    
Through all the F-###N smoke    
we been though  
I still looked for him Like he was a home to go TO!  
Through all the F-###N hurt    
I still ate    
off The same F-##N plate while    
Feeding more hate    
Sitting in my belly    
YNW Melly  
Murder in my mind  
My Pen be Walking blind    
Talking out of its mind    
got enough rounds to shoot    
ink through these lines  
Can you get off the page alive    
While    
My anger is still hungry  
   
   
Pt 3  
I’m Drunk and I was still horny  
So I’m climaxing in this in poetry    
Fukin Up of every line    
He ignored my time,  
 Man    
would buss a line    
down my throat    
Looking up at the ceiling    
I’m like oh here we GO!  
Call me the F-###N GOAT!  
      Every time    
I swallow the ink    
I get on top of the pen    
And get an orgasmic flow  
Read A couple of lines back up    
And You’ll  know I can blow  
It just a matter of how deep  
I’ll let it Go  
Fast or slow    
   
Pt 4  
If I control my    
Mental    
Off the pill    
I’ll be blowing out more smoke than Newport’s  
Menthal  
The ink said    
I’m giving you something real    
The pen replied    
It’s something in the way you make me feel  
Stephanie Mills  
   
On the pills    
When I get high  
I drop lines like the top on a coupe    
Like her top  
When I swoop In    
I’m    
All American  
I’m COOP  
I don’t have Patience    
For a    
thirst trap on IG  
So I broke Her  
before she broke ME  
Left on Read  
Inked in Red    
Pen overdosed  
And    
Sent Suicidal notes    
Did you find them    
Hidden in the posts??  
As the lines went    
GHOST  
The Pen said    
I gave you    
POWER  
The Ink replied  
I gave you the    
  TRUTH  
So you wouldn’t have    
  To DiG