Timing is everything. All of the right words at the correct moments can disrepair a healthy athlete, turn a king into a humble citizen, groveling in the gutters like everyone else. To speak clearly and consistently. Always getting the opinion across. Always being heard. Always. Could I ever dare speak so clearly? Could I acquire a skill to minimize stuttering nervousness? Could there be roots that grow up into the sky while the trunk burrows deep into the earth, progressively? There is also the mindset and susceptibility for the listeners ears. Will they perk up or turned defensively inward at the sound of your voice? Is the person vulnerable, in the least, for your diction, your word choices and your intonation? Will they crumble like a building, fall under a hypnotic spell, or burst like a fireball? Combative words or gentle words. Instant or slow manipulation of mindset. Could be brutally honest and end up burning bridges, never getting anything positive in life from that mindset until someone comes along and shares your outlook, therefore soul mates and you will hold hands through eternity, buried side by side in a cave, one picked out especially to never be tampered with until you are fossilized, side by side, holding skeleton hands forever... future archeological museums. loving each other, loving the other side of life, of death. The right words can seal everything more than any epitaph. Whispered soft into ears or yelled from afar. The power is in the reaction. And I sat there straight faced. Never fully understanding you.
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eradicate those demons who try to bind you in
blood vessel inside the bottle, and all that shipwrecked sand
great white caps of liquor crashing on the rocks
tidal force strong enough to disengage marina docks
you're drowning in the hours you've lost
you nearly revealed to me your deepest darkest secret
then you forgot
I dropped an anchor into marianas trench
crossed my fingers that a bottom exists
searching for concrete evidence at a distance
so I don't have to go look for it
all this solitary drinking
cannot be good for your psyche
all this torturous brooding
tears apart your sanity
kill all those evil spirits with wine and spirits
I had something to say but I'll soon forget
write it down so I won't have to say it out loud
bite my tongue, tasting blood
it's too late now though I wish I'd spoken up
porcelain friends try to hide from facts
but this shit all exists and we are all stuck with it
we are defined by our reactions to it
raving drunk and mad on the dance floor
we stole a few bottles from the liquor store
I just want to take you home
and drink with you alone
no more sinking, we are swimming upstream
at a leisurely pace, sun in our faces
until that morning light kills all joy once more
waking up naked on the floor
