Men & Alcohol
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Men & Alcohol
men are much like alcohol
some leave only a bitter after taste in your mouth but without any long term effects. some are a little more devastating. they relieve you of your senses, temporarily. only to wake up drowning in self-loathing, that hangover of the soul, a souvenir of a near death experienced barely survived.
if such a man is not speedily discarded however,
he will eventually be the death of you. he infects your soul with a slow and agonizing terminal illness similar to the liver cirrhosis one gets from excess alcohol consumption except this is the death of the soul.
he slyly stabs at your self confidence
resulting in the steady seepage of your person, drip drip drip. the leaking of your essence into the hundred and one other men in whom you will seek to find wholeness again. ironically it is in these rebound affairs we’re lost entirely, where personality dissolves like salt in hot water which is visually imperceptible but the bitterness is unmistakable upon taste.
yet some men are like a tall glass of red wine
mature, refined, full bodied. one small dose of him relaxes body and mind, making you want to kick off your shoes, lower your head into the centre of his sturdy chest
and drift into a peaceful slumber as you listen to the steady beat of a sincere heart.
i waited at many a bar for a tall, crimson drink
sipping on virgin daiquiris until I whiffed a glass from heaven’s vine. i recognised him immediately. a glass of red looks, smells and tastes like a glass of red, it’s never complicated. A Jack on the rocks will never appear or feel like a tall glass of red wine
unless you’ve had way too much to drink.
© Charity Hutete, aCuriousPoet
men are much like alcohol
some leave only a bitter after taste in your mouth but without any long term effects. some are a little more devastating. they relieve you of your senses, temporarily. only to wake up drowning in self-loathing, that hangover of the soul, a souvenir of a near death experienced barely survived.
if such a man is not speedily discarded however,
he will eventually be the death of you. he infects your soul with a slow and agonizing terminal illness similar to the liver cirrhosis one gets from excess alcohol consumption except this is the death of the soul.
he slyly stabs at your self confidence
resulting in the steady seepage of your person, drip drip drip. the leaking of your essence into the hundred and one other men in whom you will seek to find wholeness again. ironically it is in these rebound affairs we’re lost entirely, where personality dissolves like salt in hot water which is visually imperceptible but the bitterness is unmistakable upon taste.
yet some men are like a tall glass of red wine
mature, refined, full bodied. one small dose of him relaxes body and mind, making you want to kick off your shoes, lower your head into the centre of his sturdy chest
and drift into a peaceful slumber as you listen to the steady beat of a sincere heart.
i waited at many a bar for a tall, crimson drink
sipping on virgin daiquiris until I whiffed a glass from heaven’s vine. i recognised him immediately. a glass of red looks, smells and tastes like a glass of red, it’s never complicated. A Jack on the rocks will never appear or feel like a tall glass of red wine
unless you’ve had way too much to drink.
© Charity Hutete, aCuriousPoet
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