Standing tall and proud like a dismantled cork screw;
Night creeps ever so quietly to undo
My already brittle attempts
Of a throne stitched out of
Empty wine bottles;
How I carry my intoxicated body
Through another meaningful day
Fabricated by my own lust of a purpose
I dance in circles around my own dreadful ambition
Spent endless night falls talking to your very disappearing apparition,
Woven flower crowns around my head
Incase you need any more proof
Of my unconditional, but yet buried, adolescent heart
Permanently stained lips like dark Merlot; my breath reeks of all the desolate
Reasons of my own pitiful calamity, the sun forgives my weary weakness but yet
The moon rises every single night to remind me of
My own red pigmented destruction
Lest I ever forget about my ruinous origins; a duplicate of a fate
That was set out before my birth was ever a landmark
To begin with,
I fall asleep to the song of
Of my own agonizing cricket
Of a heart;
never restful,
Only a repetition
Of my past
