The mind is a terrible thing to waste.
'How would you know? '
My mind had been wasted many times.
And the last time I remember being wasted,
It took me at least three weeks to recover.
'How have you managed to stay sober? '
I remember kneeling in front of a toilet.
Professing my undying love and marriage,
If I was ever able to get back up on my feet again.
To have my head stop from spinning...
To enable me to find my way home.
'What happened to that marriage proposal? '
I don't remember where I was or how I got there.
But I do remember waking up feeling terrible.
And hoping that toilet forgets anything I promised.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem