s**t dude

drunk poetry, seems to be the only poetry i do anymore...

I can't help but feel the ceiling falling down and the drums beating loud,

while you run further away and I drown in crowd.

Its dark and deep and rumbling with hunger as millions of bodies seek one another

and I only feel complete in that mass of f*****g strangers

yet here I lie, alone in bed, with nothing to do but rest my spinning head

it seems rest is all I ever get. 

Author's Note

bleh.