Stumbling to My Drinking’s End

Line by bloody line

Photo and Poetry by Me

I am
The source of my frustration

My body is a pen
And this world
Is my paper

I’ve spent 34 years
Just slamming myself
Into these pages

Smearing my blood
That is this ink
From top to bottom

Tumbling and tripping
Down these lines
Until the page is filled
With illegible markings
That never had any direction
Other than to reach the bottom

To fall asleep
And start anew
On a fresh white page

That was 34 years straight
But five months ago
All of that changed

I made a choice

I no longer stumble
I’m writing with purpose
A semblance of direction

I shut down my circus