I lift the whiskey bottle to my lips, allow the burning alcohol into my veins. Here, the world smells of chemicals and chance, and here, my legs dangle off the side of the earth, a small spectrum of my presumed soul already escaping deeper into space, unable to trace a pattern back to sanity. And I stopped dreaming. Here, the world is shattered and the broken pieces of glass glimmer, dance, and hide themselves beneath the enlightenment in you. O, my sweet Armageddon, my baby blue-eyes buried by the shore with the beer bottles and tender promises of love -- my blood-stained dreamer, this is our world, now. Here, where whiskey fills our voids, where a small spectrum of humanity dances with a shattered past and smells of secrets. My sweet Armageddon, my bitter becoming....This is our world, now.
(Tell me if anything needs to be changed or if I should extend the poem. Thx.)
