You’ll hear me calling.
You’ll hear me praying,
“forever drunk,
I wanna be forever drunk.”
Mind it a distant joke
of whoever I was before,
bleeding the love,
like a vulgar son of parsimony.
How did I look like?
The bear beheaded?
I kept asking myself.
Swallowing the entire pool,
holding the bottles tight
against my chest;
since who when flying
cares about a thing?
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