Sunday, March 29, 2015

Drunk Mentor

Red eyes, blank stare
Breathing out cold air
Empty chest, burnt tongue
His dragon heart is frozen

Day's done, night begins
Bottle in hand
He sips till sleep creeps in
Rescuing his soul from abyss 

Day starts with a headache
But there are people waiting
Depending, needing 
So he rushes out to see them

Weekend comes
Wasted days begin
A chance for strange sex
He puts on his best mask

Sunday arrives
He didn't get enough
So he pounces on my love
But I'm a fast prey 

Struggling to reach me
He throws compliments 
But I'm used to this chase
So I keep running steady

Waiting for me to tire
He sits with his laments
Controlled by his past
Removed from the present 

My soul tightly embraces the boy 
My heart reaches for warmth
But all I find is dust
Dirt where passion used to be

But lately, I stopped reaching 
I watch his flesh sinking
Bones breaking
Muscles shrinking 

And I hear a scream
 "Go to your love"
And I continue to walk forward
Knowing the worst is over 

And he says I'm the best
The best drink he's ever had
And the devil watches me closely
Waiting for the upper hand

And he sits in his castle 
In his secluded throne 
And in a bottle he finds courage 
To convince others to join him

Hoping they won't be disappointed
For what he expects he cannot give
So he sits back with his drink in hand 
Wondering if I changed my number again


No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.