Coherent thoughts escape my bloodshot skull and drying tongue.
Red stars form into constellations while tar fills my two lungs.
I stay up haunting ghosts and braving flea-bitten memories,
And sun might rise in a few hours but I must find a new remedy.
Caffeine, wine and white agony mix sweet drinks in my chest.
Why does dread taste like candy but hope hisses like a pest?
The crowd of people on the bridge turned out to be just smoke,
But every person I talk to takes my delusions as a joke.
I do not sleep until the fist of god knocks me unconscious.
I pray to my own moral compass, asking it to stay cautious.
The night comes and fate runs me like a hamster on a wheel.
One of these days death will consume like an overdue meal.
-Jackie
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 