Drunk Thoughts Mean Nothing

Thoughts fuelled by desire
and heart breaking moments
of pretentious anagnorisis,
hyped up by the solstice of
a legal poison,
Don’t mean anything.

I’m sorry.

What was I was thinking,
when I rang you over, over, over, over?
You didn’t pick up,
it was all lies.
Fabrications made up in the
love affair between
my imagination
and the volume of intoxication,
iconoclasts of boredom.

I don’t know what I was going to say.

It doesn’t matter.
It was an exaggeration.
They burned out quickly,
I threw away the candle
with your name,

It should have gone years ago.

Did you imagine me
imagining you?
Did you picture
your name flashing through my brain?
As the poison went further down me.

I’m sorry it was a lie.

A broken memory i’ve since forgotten,
covered in dust,
temporarily brought into
my minds eye;
tarnished with sobering alcohol,
telling me to call your name.

How does it feel when you see my name?

Do you care, like I don’t?
Does it ignite the hidden dream,
you buried within me?