but I prefer alcohol

He looked so f*****g sincere
it made me sicker than I was.
After all I’d drunk too much
bad vodka and too fast mind
but that’s how it always is
around here, get sick
and you’re nowhere here a
nd isn’t that where everyone
wants to be? I think he’s
holding me up
but maybe holding me back,
and I don’t know what to say
because of the way he
looks at me so hard like I said
don’t stop again but I say nothing
and I just lie there and you
were all over him, no no I wasn’t
cause he’s just every man.
Where are my cigarettes?
He’s found them and
he's lit them, oh
thank heaven for boys that always lie
am I right or am I always wrong,
either way it matters not
because I’m too sick to be still.

Reviews

[Kevin]

Another nice poem. Reminds me of when I used to drink. Thanks for sharing.

[Antonio Valentino]

If you wrote this when you were drunk you're a good writer, if you were sober, you're even better.

This painted the message in the bottle quite nicely.
Well done!

Antonio

[Doctor JKC]

Bad vodka, like Georgi, (rot-gut) in some fashion says to the body,
"I want to kill you."

Love it!
Jack

[alan khan]

nice work. interesting. i liked the flow.