jonalcoholic

new poem:

untitled:
Empty botles, cans, mixers, all downers.
Clutter my life, but adorn it so.
Each empty bottle, a story it tells,
From the bottom to the top.
Some could be happy, or perhaps sad?
Only the bottles know now.
Those stories are mine no longer.
Those stories are drowning.
Empty, bottles, stories...

And what can ever last in emptyness?
Apparently there stories can,...
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Got really drunk last night, I always seem to forget how much I drink. Apparently I finished half a handle of vodka. Don't know how that happened.

Oh yea, anyone out there going to Nawlins for Mardi Gras? Give me a shout if you are.

I thought about posting some of my poetry on here. what do yall think?

New to SG. Seems cool. Im not one to talk much, so. . .