Drunk

Drunk. All the thoughts are muffled, numbed. All the speed in them slowed to a crawl. A heated discussion in the other room, while I sup vodka and listen to all together now by the farm on spotify. I couldn’t care Less. Still the thought of death lingers, it’s dark grip holding on to my senses. I’m safe. I watch the world in slow motion, music the only thing that can soothe my troubled mind. I will hold on to the music. Hold onto the octaves that keep me sane. The melody is muffled by is speaking to my soul.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s