being this drunk and hungry takes me to the slippery years of my youth

to the fallen-in ankles stumbling on the ice years of lovelorn

arms out slow spins in the rain freedom

cigarettes on rooftops terror

bottles of wine under my twin bed lonely

to all the things i never thought i would make it to

to all the things i prayed to god i wouldn’t make it to


but i did make it.

and i keep on making it.

every morning I’ve made it

every night I plan how i’ll make it again


this hungry drunk is reminiscent, but it is not mirror

i am not as much terror

i am not as much lonely


i am naked hurricane eye freedom

i am love spread like gold on november

i am me

i am here

i keep going