Drunk Dreams

 

Star swarm
Relative anxiety
Pretending to pretend to
not care anymore
Instead we laugh, drink
and dine our nights
away in glitter splendor
and wine, half-drunk
is not really drunken
unless you can smell it on your pores

Discursive thought pattern
in a well of smoke
It tells you to shut up
and then it laughs at you for thinking
thoughts about yourself
and you think you’re surely crazy
so you think and drink some more.

Handle with care.
Do you see how you’ve fallen?
It’s in just such a way
that meditating on starlight is
not enough for our eyes tonight

Kiss me and make me feel the stars again.

Why can’t I get you out of my head
when you’ve gotten so out of my life
that I can’t remember if yesterday was a year ago or today
And every time I think of stars
I think of you and the wine
and you’ve ruined time for me

Where do you go when you’re dead but living?
What do ghosts smell like?
Apothic red and haunting moonlight
My drunk dreams are cheaper than you

I’d drink from your cup any day,
anytime, and never all at once.

What the fuck was I talking about when I accidentally told you I love you?
Accidentally on purpose I decided you were my tomorrow
and hung my wedding dress on the cobweb cabinet shelf of my mind
and you
Decided I was yesterday
and never, all at once
You’re always to me
Always, always

and I can smell you on my pores.

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Can you be half-pregnant?

I need you.
I need you in my bones.
A deep body need –

I want you,
leaking from my heart
spilling through my veins
and returning.
My blood is begging you,
“Replace me”.

I don’t want to be my own.

Devour my tongue
with notes of cherry, grape, pine,
and shield me in your
oak, barrel, cask.

I desire to bathe in you,
to wash away the past
permeating my skin.

I have a mild case of alcoholism –
my first admission of half truth.

The rest is a lie I tell myself  –
denial,
one
and the same.

So I’ll half deny my blood.

My capillaries scream at me.

My dreams are haunted by questions.

The answers lost in sudden chaos with which I wake
when I half-asleep remember I’m supposed to forget
that face, that laugh, that voice, that hand
that everything I thought was true
was lie.

I’d rather keep lying to myself
than let him do it
again.

So I’ll half deny my blood.

My capillaries scream at me.

My dreams, still haunted.

EJZ 05.05.2015