slipping away again

this is an unfinished poem about limitation

Nothing but
the taste of coffee
and the weight on my shoulders,
curling up with a book and
a strut in my head.
My attitude inflicts my brain.
My mouth weeps,
my eyes creep
out from the cloud surrounding me.
Tears drip down
your icy cold grin.
You run and spin from
the fiery stares
around you.
The waves ripple and the seagulls sickle
and tickle
your fucked up fantasy.
You’re in love with
the bottom of a
shot glass,
and people’s names and
people’s voices
turn themselves
away from reality.