Drunken Soul

As I walked out one damp night,

reflecting neon lights,

breathing in the heavy smoke,

and breathing out my life.

 

Cracking earth beneath my feet,

and ink beneath my eyes,

I wade through the tired souls,

of a wasted Friday night.

 

The street screams and smells and sweats,

of cars, of men, of sick.

I see a lover's heaven,

on a wall of old brick.

 

And though I’d yelled my lungs dry,

and pounded on the walls.

My swollen heart betrayed me,

white flag raised proud and tall.

 

Despite the numbing liquid,

I still taste her on my tongue,

burning down my throat and lungs,

my jaw clenched, my heart drums.

 

My head pounds, my hands shake,

and it makes me wonder why

it takes a stranger’s poison

to make me feel alive.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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