deepundergroundpoetry.com
Bottling Woe Is Me
Bottoms of bottles are mainly saliva
since my soul drips as bits
like passing, shattering ships steered towards
poison aiming to kill inside ya,
or rather inside of me
My wounds too wet to be seen bleeding,
my throat too stretched
to be busy
screening
out
that elixir
of upset, I'm wrecked
by
those 26 ounce pillars
of bad dreams,
those killers of women, men and children,
those fillers of
mad fiends,
bottles
have me weeping
only to see me
acquire their last drops through
sad schemes
or
by any means
My mind's eye
has seen
most horrible thoughts
as
I am feeling
withdrawals,
stuck, sick and hot
I'm feeling filled to top of
patch riddled hat with
scalp yacked steam
my eyes
large black dots
Toxic
roots
grow bottles
tall
enough to make
sober parachutes torn
as they are touched and
turn rotten
Parents of air of
drunk heirs, exhaled through despair
in dark coffins adopted my once
glad genes
I saw a doomed family
sailing down the Styx and
barbecuing,
so I hopped in foamy river
seamlessly
like skinny finger
through
fat ring
to see
what was happening,
Glued myslef to
summer fling
for a pound of beer and
chicken wings
gladly
beneath a morgue of
false sheen
and it's been
hard to ween
speed off of
full throttle,
this has been
life in bottomless bottles
me,
a mad thing
in need of life
long asylum,
trapped in a glass,
unaware of the world
and it's happenings,
this my cold fall off,
shivering
thinking what happened to spring?
This is sad me
This, Zachary
since my soul drips as bits
like passing, shattering ships steered towards
poison aiming to kill inside ya,
or rather inside of me
My wounds too wet to be seen bleeding,
my throat too stretched
to be busy
screening
out
that elixir
of upset, I'm wrecked
by
those 26 ounce pillars
of bad dreams,
those killers of women, men and children,
those fillers of
mad fiends,
bottles
have me weeping
only to see me
acquire their last drops through
sad schemes
or
by any means
My mind's eye
has seen
most horrible thoughts
as
I am feeling
withdrawals,
stuck, sick and hot
I'm feeling filled to top of
patch riddled hat with
scalp yacked steam
my eyes
large black dots
Toxic
roots
grow bottles
tall
enough to make
sober parachutes torn
as they are touched and
turn rotten
Parents of air of
drunk heirs, exhaled through despair
in dark coffins adopted my once
glad genes
I saw a doomed family
sailing down the Styx and
barbecuing,
so I hopped in foamy river
seamlessly
like skinny finger
through
fat ring
to see
what was happening,
Glued myslef to
summer fling
for a pound of beer and
chicken wings
gladly
beneath a morgue of
false sheen
and it's been
hard to ween
speed off of
full throttle,
this has been
life in bottomless bottles
me,
a mad thing
in need of life
long asylum,
trapped in a glass,
unaware of the world
and it's happenings,
this my cold fall off,
shivering
thinking what happened to spring?
This is sad me
This, Zachary
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