when all your friends stop drinking every night

vomit in swaystride
i can smell the difference between the well
and the top shelf
i was thrown into the fire
at this bar
i am just here to tell you nothings
or speak poems
feel the numb layer
trip over my own loving
grease the wheels for a slow stumble
never trust the night
are there people here
can any of these things
with their mouths
tell me how they exist
i am growing into myself
each organ is turning into stone
i cant even piss anymore
without the sky turning into gin
falling all over me