Vodka and Xanax mix so well
to soften the edges of an evolving hell.
One day runs into the next,
valleys outnumber the ridges
and the climbing is hard,
but it sure beats the fall
and when I wake up, my head feels the light.
When the pounding signifies morning has come,
I pray before I open my eyes,
to settle my heartbeat,
making it easier to rise.
The Lord's Prayer prepares my way,
my battle armor for another day….
bullet holes in my sturdy attire
open the bottle,
quiet the fire,
paving the way to quell
this unrelenting desire.....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem