Bitter, sharp, burning my throat like gasoline
Warmth spreading through from the back of my throat to my chest, to my fingertips
That was one hell of a shot.
Two more, then two more follow, then another two and my vision is crisscrossed.
But for once, I think I feel alive
The warmth in my chest, spreading through my body
The taste of gin and cranberry cocktails and hot ashes from a freshly lit cigarette
I’m loose, floating on a pond of freedom in the form of alcohol and mary-jane, lifted higher by nicotine
I feel the buzz, the music is sharper, louder, more focused
It’s calling me center to dance
To let myself go, be free
My problems are on a back-burner and I don’t have to think
Not about the future
Not about the past
Not even about the here and now
I just have to enjoy the rush
The next morning I’m steeped in regret
My head pounds
My ears are ringing
Every light is pain
I don’t know what happened
I just remember the buzz
The rush
The taste of losing myself in the drink and the buzz of the night
YOU ARE READING
[ R E A C H ]
PoetryA compilation of poems from me, a boy with a fragile psyche, and an even more fragile sense of reality. These are my view, my perception of reality. Topics range from anything from depression, suicidal thoughts, anxiety, alcoholism, nightmares, and...
![[ R E A C H ]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/135661891-64-k189231.jpg)