Last time i was drunk

i felt some bathroom hysteria bobble up in my chest.i felt
like a wind turbine with a broken teetering-hub, which stands
facing west. i felt seven daggers and 18 years of chipped
nails creep into my dreams one by one. i felt a lot of
terrible things. i also felt

your hands and your fingers as they grew rocky.Last time i was
drunk i tried writing letters to 3 people in heaven. the first
snorted, the second wouldn't acknowledge my existence. the third was
killing himself again.the third was telling me i need to
shove the words into a mortise.i felt like i needed to
keep a promise, or a secret, but all i have is cavities.i
felt like giving some strong advice.

like- When lachrymose,try weeping on someone's bleeding sweatshirt.
or Never ignore a roadkill, it might come to and eat your genitals.
or Turn into a crow. or a unicorn. or something that can escape
fatuous human faith.or Love your children, please love your children.Last

time i was drunk,i felt like polishing forks and honing my blades, like
it is the most tender act in the universe.i felt like being a handgun
hidden in a shrine,or the love hidden in a whore's crevice.i felt
like writing NEX all over my walls and painting them yellow.
like a gay,violent death in springtime, i wanted to scream and
dismember a heart, for once,not my own.