Sunday, August 7

Anonymous

I wake up to the sound of the dogs barking.
I'm lying on a bamboo couch, on the porch of my aunts ( who happens to be out, but if she was around she'd kill me for sure!) house.
I wipe my mouth of my own vomit, already crusting on the corner of my lips & on my shirt.

The acrid smell of half digested chips & liquor lingers in the air.
My body reeks.

What a mess.
Bits & pieces of last nights' food display themselves in a drying puddle on the floor, souvenirs from last night's escapade.
I pick myself up, my breath laced with alcohol, 'breathe me in if u wana get high'...
My liver's on overtime.

Gotta go get cleaned up & grab a bite.
Today's another day & I'm thirsty.

I love Fridays.



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