depression · Life · managing depression · New work

Maybe the next time

As I awoke in my pit of despair

Laid out on the floor as a carcas left to rot

The flies were probably seeking their next meal

I was probably an eternity after the expiration date

Clutching my head as if it mattered

The afternoon sun pulsing through the dreary nets

The burning rays on my brow

Self pity was on my lips from the night before

Somewhere between the cheapest vodka and the stains on my shirt

A stream of bottles littered the floor

If only it was a river with a breakneck current

I wish it would suck me in never to return to my hell

Why is there always a next time?

An afternoon awakening sunrise

Maybe the next time I lose myself in the bottle

I can disappear for good

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3 thoughts on “Maybe the next time

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