July 18, 2011
Night after night,
dreams of faceless
people drowning in
lakes of fire are
interrupted by
splitting headaches
and waking up on
filthy bathroom floors.
His stale breath
smelling of bourbon
as he stumbles about
trying to make sense
of the previous night.
Do you think you’re cool?
Do you really believe
you can keep living like
this? She would ask.
He didn’t have the answers.
All he knew was that
whether he could or not,
he didn’t care.

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