Wet Brain


Another mental merry-go-round, we are going in circles again

We will reach daylight before a resolution my friend

A Rolodex of instant-regrets fumbles in your work-station mind

An array of cheap liquor to turn to, your excuse to overanalyze

Here we are, stranded at what-if central, I’m searching for a way out

You loathed every detour, possibility or clear route

Give me some space, you’d say, as you grasped the glass neck of your kryptonite

How your eyes fogged, fluttered, floated, like buoys in the night

As you filled yourself to the brim of your favorite served chilled or room temp

I felt parts of myself drain, dry up, guilty to serve your wet brain once again

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