It Might Just Be...

My head hurts.
Body aches.
Mind racing.
World spinning.

My eyes feel swollen.
My legs kill.
I am beginning to miss you.
What the hell is going on?

I pat the wall, searching.
For a door, a window, anything.
Where am I?
Where's the exit?

Then I begin to realize,
That perhaps,
It might just be the alcohol.

Reviews

[Wall Hermitt]

tHERE is a lot shown in this poem. I've read it three times already (within the space of a minute) just to make sure I get different self-perspectives. I like to do that sometimes when I relate to a piece of writing through personal experience or just mere empathy. 'World spinning', 'I am beginning to miss you', and 'Where's the exit' are areas in the writing that seem to take me away from the primary concept, as these are questions I do ask myself on occasion.

gREAT poem.

Thanks for sharing.

W.H.

[I Am Svetlana]

Wow, thank you! I was afraid no one was going to review this. And I'm glad you were able to get different perspectives and read it over so many times in order to achieve that! I always appreciate your reviews so much :)

[Wall Hermitt]

You're very welcome. It's a very nice poem.