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