Some asked me once before if I could be anything or anyone in the world, what would it be?

The Answer:




When I’m stressed…

I take shots,

breaking down trees.

Clarity is what I thirst for,

And my fears are starving my needs.


I don’t want to feel a thing,

And the liquor doesn’t ask questions.

My world is dark and cold for a minute,

But the numbness wont last.


I can’t see past the smoke,

I can only see the past.

But still, the trees don’t talk back.


I rest my head

on whatever will

keep it up at the moment.


My regrets are too heavy,

My thoughts moving in slow motion.


Burdens buried me under

Brownish-Green meadows

Of melancholy.

My bed sailing down

Rivers of Rum.


I see the light,

but it’s burning my eyes.

To my demise,

I can hear God laughing

at my home remedies.


Last night,

He turned his blood into

this bottle of wine.

And my faith adapted strength.


Last night,

He turned these munchies

Into Food for Thought,

And my knowledge gained weight.


This morning,

I woke up,

Hand scanned the surfaces.

Until it came upon a glass of clarity,

And alas…

I was replenished.