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Array
(
[sid] => 60481
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Drunken Uselessness
[time] => 2004-08-17 17:01:21
[hometext] => * A balls out poem that deals with depression and trying to cure that with drinking and how empty that approach is. I poured a lot into this so I hope you all like it. *
[bodytext] => Bent fingers claw the air As foggy strands are swept from my eyes I feel the ache and sense of despair and Know today will be different I stop and try to let it all Wash over me and make time pause, But as the tears crawl down my heart I know coping will be impossible I grip my head and try to rip it out And I know that this is not living I stumble about for a while Lost in this maelstrom of despair Seeking for an easy way "out" Bringing the bottle to my lips I sucked upon the emptiness That my escape emitted Depleted, knowing the regret I will soon feel and The lonely vacancy within the shattered shell of my heart I cried within and despite the fuzziness That my escape gave it only renewed the gnawing Felt so acutely before So broken I knelt upon the floor And unable to find the words to beg of forgiveness I collapsed into a fetal position Swiftly draining my cup of despair I wept until I lacked the strength To plod onwards and fell asleep Bathed in my own tears Awaking, the same abjectness still tormenting my senses Pain blurring my visionless sight I scrabbled towards my affliction Thinking it would annul the wooziness, In my foolishness and abject stupidity, I catch my reflection and see my eyes once bright Now dull and sunken orbs My face once lit with a smile Now tarnished by a frown and streaked with tears The bottle now depressingly on E Good for only weeping into its dark confines I toss it amongst the other bottles I stagger towards the kitchen seeking more "medication" Only to trip, hit my head on the counter, and blackout Waking with tubes and needles in me I hear the words "major alcohol poisoning" Fighting against the resurging blackness (it wins) Separated from my body (seeing the useless shell on the bed) Seeing and hearing the flat line Seeing and hearing the doctors - to late [comments] => 7 [counter] => 185 [topic] => 13 [informant] => bobotheclown [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 10 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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