On my last drunken escapade,
I was sitting in my girlfriend’s
living room.
It was 3:28 am, I was sucking
on a cheap bottle of vodka, and
It was sucking the soul right
out of me.
I knew things needed to change.
She had just sucked me dry in
the bedroom, and I was losing
all my strength.
I had the wisdom of a snail,
inching along, waiting to be
crushed.
I wasn’t drunk, just liquid smooth.
Contemplating and configuring the
degradation and the lack of
windmills to chase.
The mirror had become a horrible and
pitiful place. Out of the corner of
my eye, I saw a large shadow zip
across the wall.
A second later, our cat, Patches, leapt
into the air.
I heard a terrible
Squeak, tweet, squawk,
I ran to her and began prying
at her mouth.
It was a small night bird.
I took it from her and put it
outside.
It was still alive, and there was
no
blood on my hands.
I said,
Bad Patches.
It freaked me out.
I woke up my girlfriend and told
her what happened.
She said,
are you sure it wasn’t a dream?
I went into the bathroom and looked
in the mirror.
I drained the last of the vodka,
and walked to the hospital.
When it’s time,
you just know.
hello dearest Thomas I wonder what has you sad your girlfriend or the drink and I’m curious what the bird symbolized…nice metaphoric write…💕
Thank you Crimson. Both had me sad. Bird represents freedom and serenity.
You know, when I drink Vodka, we’ve got dragons catching ravens. I just leave those motherfuckers alone.
Every poem tells a story, Thomas. I love it. But it does look like your girlfriend would have driven you.
lol. Thank you. You are fantastic.
Powerfully penned, Thomas. I can definitely relate my friend. Incredible write. Appreciate you.
Damian
Thank you.
Vodka is my demon drink but I just read yesterday that it’s good for your heart in moderation…
Translation: it’s always good to clean up from time to time. The drink will be there, you just have not be too.
Powerful confessional
Courage son
Thank you. Much appreciated.