"Children run and
hide away...

Christmas is children
Happily opening presents and...

Forever talking down people's art
Unyielding to anyone else's opinions...

Unable to sleep
On a heated summers night...

A dry scratching at the back of the throat
Each swallow harder than the last...

On long summer days
I enjoy barbequed food...

The empty bottles sitting on the counter top
Reminding me of the eventful night before...

Looking downwards, I see my own mistake
The white carpet now soaked in red liquid...

Struggling to take a breath as walls crumble in
Deafening silence as the ground grows closer...

Touching the ground in a strange yet familiar...
Needing to get some fresh air in my stale lungs...

How long does it take
a day, a month, or even a full year...

The bile rises up
To the back of my dry throat...