one too many

hands brace against concrete walls
searchin for somethin solid
in a spinnin world
where streetlights melt
in late november rain

liquored up white lies
slide from a tongue gone numb
drippin like poison
as dawn ticks closer
and memory unravels

the bartender’s face
smears like watercolor
thru the bottom of my glass
measurin out oblivion
in four finger pours
while my phone buzzes
with promises I failed to keep

broken bottle self esteem
catchin glints of moonlight
in parkin lot gravel
pieces of my self left scattered
in places I can’t remember

neon signs flicker warnins
while my demons dance
to muffled jukebox selections  
that sound like funeral songs
and every shadow wears my father's face
watchin me spiral down a familiar drain

while somewhere in my head
I'm tryin to blur the madman
who whispers sweet permission
to drown one more night
in grave deep bottles
that never completely fill

consciousness comes in waves
head filled with static
twelve hours missin
and I swear again
this time
this time
this time is the last
not knowin how the word "last"
would taste like freedom
three years down the road