Come-to; the body is frayed,
And mind and vision are completely hazed
Nothing but the bitter taste of vomit –
An aura encloses and permeates a funk.
Perhaps it’s time to question whether you’re an alcoholic,
Or just an indisputably poor drunk
Undulating pulses pound the head
A heavy body, indicates the damage is widespread
The stomach can’t hold its own
A slightest aroma of food causes it to upturn.
Nothing left but this reached state to bemoan,
And uncontrollable desires that life would just adjourn
Acquaintances are many small groans of hate
As the insides slowly rehabilitate
Eyelids that forget to close all the way
Temporary photophobia adds to the dismay
The lesson here:
Everything with moderation; Nothing in excess.
© Luis Valencia