I sometimes wish I was
-just a conscious thought
Away from my whiskey crutch
And the hunger pangs
that keep me awake
Sleepless nights from
that familiar ache
In my right side
Where the drinks
go to die.
Those feelings would
just flow forever
With no embodiment
but then I suppose
They'd never be freed
in this written catharsis
In this rather peculiar form.
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