House of Cards

Alcoholism you say, fantastic, a blazon disregard for anyone else and a license to consume poison vigorously. Each day builds upon another with joyful depression. Keep drinking though, find a way to the end, be a winner. The sick taste of blood on my tongue but I’m on a roll and i can feel the elation filling my chest and running fast through my fingers. Sober fools. Anonymous scars tickle but never hurt through the numbness. Die tommorow or sell insurance for 50 years, sign up for a mortgage you can’t afford, marry someone you don’t love, play golf with people you hate and raise children. Somebody else’s life. Be lonely and wild or emotionally get a grip,  love people that love you back, be responsible for your actions and never kiss your best friend’s wife.

And then it comes…the soft gentle whisper that flows inwards softening the drumbeat and soothing the soul. An almighty leap into the cool fresh silent forgiving water. Hold me as the drumbeat rises and i need support. “I’ll have another.”


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