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