PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Its so cold the concrete on my face, the taste of dried crusted blood on my lips,

as i awake from my slumber in this all to familiar place.

Oh no what have i done, hands swolled from the shattered bones,

i did it again its like this place is my favorite home.

The smell of vomit still lingers in the air,

for some reason i cant force my self to fucking care, not even if my life depended on it.

For some reason its like im addicted to the shit.

One fowl look,or say the wrong word,

and it takes over, this shit is so fucking absurd.

Its like the worst drug, i feel like the incredible hulk,

if im not careful, someone could end up being outlined in white chalk.

I feel the moment as it approaches,

that familiar sting coursing through my viens,

my head itches, my skin begins to burn,

every muscle in my body constricts, breathing deeper,

blood pressure through the roof.

My mind plays tricks on me from all the alcohol,

it says between you, and you, and you, and me, im the alpha dog.

I pounce, i black out and awake in my "favorite home".

Insanity, doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.

Insane, thats me, its my fault, i hate this place, do i hate myself, do i hate the world,

do i hate you, do i hate good, do i hate evil, i dont know.

I hate this poem right now cause my past experiences are the inspiration for it,

but i lied i dont hate it, i love it,  its good for me, its good for you, learn from it, i did.

BY: HARLEY HENRY