Mess

Messy hair, messy sheets
The smell of yester-night nestles
in your curls

The sun rays tease your eyes
as they slyly creep through the thin
curtains that hover with your sleepy breaths

Eye lids fighting the urge of separating
Exhaustion is seducing them
But that sun light, it’s getting brighter

Body feeble, tattooed with random bruises
“What the hell?”
The taste of cigarettes still linger
in your mouth, mixed with the after taste
of that vodka

You gather what’s left of your strength
..that damn Vodka stole half of it
As you struggle to from those magnetic
bed sheets, you slowly feel your leg muscles
aching, cramping, trying to carry your
upper body

Still struggling to move from that magnetically
powered bed, holding on to your weak body
You hear something
“What’s that annoying sound, raping my brain?”

You subconsciously know where to seek it
Yet you just voice your annoyance
You reach out to shut it down
it’s coming from the ground
attached to a charging chord
connected to a plug infested multi-power outlet
That stupid alarm!

You’re already awake,
Should you actually wake up?
You enjoy this lethargic state
You bask under the result of
being chewed up and spat out by last night
You surrendered your inhibitions to it
willingly!

Still in bed, stretching
You maneuver your body
in a way to overcome those bed sheets
You want to expose your body to the
empty walls of your room
You want to enjoy the chills they emit
the goosebumps they result in
With no thought in mind.

Facing the ceiling, brain regaining
consciousnesses of what a morning feels like
You reach back into the crumpled purse
that can narrate yester-night way more than you do
Still facing the ceiling, no energy to turn over
You trust your hand can slither it’s way around
that pouch

You feel the pack and it’s full of death sticks
You smile at the mini rewarding feeling
that the pack also has a lighter

As you lie there, facing the wall
enjoying the chills, you light that cigarette
you inhale, unmerciful of those lungs
a puff that reaches your toes,
You wanted that

As you exhale, you feel the smoke
oscillating its way out

You smile as it exits your mouth
feeling dragon-like
enjoying the
mess
that
you
are

Mess

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One thought on “Mess

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