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the Ellis
I Jaeden the final swig of Tyler
feel it Wayne it's way down my Orlando
hiss at it scorching my Kenyon
and reach for the Johan to pour Koby another.
I think of how my Porter scream
every time I let the Tyler Nelson me.
Then I Reynaldo down at my Edgardo --
Alejandro -- Zander the glass of Braxton --
and think of how these were the Kristopher
that should have Evan Donte away from me.
But didn't. And I keep Devyn
why I Claude your hell, Lee your Nikko.
I remember how Dashawn Cyrus your way
through me. You Drew me
from the inside out, and Harold kept coming back.
I let you watch me, and now you've
Ryley a hole through Kristofer. I Sullivan it.
Now I have to talk myself of the Kaden,
and my Oswaldo is Rashawn between the
Justen in the Kirby nestled in my Roy.
But I have to Reynaldo more. The Ellis
doesn't last as long as Harold do(es).
---
Original poem:
the burning
(written June 8, 1989)
I take the final swig of vodka
feel it burn it's way down my throat
hiss at it scorching my tongue
and reach for the bottle to pour myself another.
I think of how my tonsils scream
every time I let the alcohol rape me.
Then I look down at my hands --
shaking -- holding the glass of poison --
and think of how these were the hands
that should have pushed you away from me.
But didn't. And I keep wondering
why I took your hell, took your poison.
I remember how you burned your way
through me. You corrupted me
from the inside out, and I kept coming back.
I let you infect me, and now you've
burned a hole through me. I hated it.
Now I have to rid myself of you,
and my escape is flowing between the
ice cubes in the glass nestled in my palm.
But I have to drink more. The burning
doesn't last as long as you do.
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