It's funny coming home drunk, riding the train in an empty carriage. The world around you rocks but nothing in the carriage moves at all. And you can imagine hanging yourself from the loops designed to anchor people to life.
It's funny coming home drunk unscathed after a night with friends. You should be whole but pieces of you have gone missing and suddenly you notice. And to balance them out you take deep, bloody pieces from yourself and use band aids to stop the damage hitting the floor while others use them to heal.
It's funny coming home drunk and listening to music in the night. The song is upbeat but somehow the chords strike the blackest parts of your heart. And you believe no one will notice if you sleep away while everyone else sleeps.
It's funny coming home drunk and realising the damage the you keep.
No comments:
Post a Comment