Falling Up
Falling Up
relapse wraps around me
clear cool oblivion
the easy promise of decay
whose face is
a glass filled and spilled
out before me
the threshold of truth
is a lie told twice
I can smell almost taste
the bitter poison that would take me
how long
three days to die from
my shoelace wisdom
tripped up again
is it pride keeps me sober
crawling through the empty house
all those broken bottles
and crushed up cans
cannot erase the passion
I keep pushing the clock hands back
I never drink at four
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