you strangle me
for hours, for days
for another episode
of your emotional
wrangling of ideas.
you choke me,
you hold me
on the neck
where you’d
usually touch
me and linger
me to sip, lick
w h a t e v e r
you can get
inside of me,
you quench
y o u r o w n
t h i r s t, without
knowing that you could
actually make me hollow inside
and you chose not to acknowledge
that ‘coz that would break you, and
that would make you hate the fact
that you are now on the verge of
drinking 'til you drown your mind.
Honey, you have lost all of your safe
defenses and you’ve been nowhere to
be found. The scent of the *** is now
circling in the room. And like how you
manage to pick yourself up to get
another one to pop, you are able to
light another stick of that cigarette
that’s been on the table for two weeks
now. My alcohol is making your head
spin as of this moment. What now? No!
Please stop! After you’ve caressed me,
now you’re going to throw me on the
wall? Are you crying? Oh, honey, please
just calm down. It is okay, I understand.
I know the feeling of being empty and
it feels like hell. Oh, sure, just put me on
the corner of the room. I am ready to be
forgotten for another week or so now.
Come back when you're sober.
