The possibility of denial.

In every word, a slur
in every action some distress
give to me, a deeper sense

A stem wont hold my fears
the way I grasp a neck
troubles clash
a handsome mess

Metaphor may hide my words
of hearts untrue
and thoughts untold
conflict meant to mourn
but built to grow

We leave a lingered night,
a template to my life

To keep it all away
I'll put myself to sleep;
drink to solace
drink to rest
drink to another day.