Booze Part III

It was loneliness

As vomit squeezed from my throat
with anger and sadness in dizzying
repetitious alternations
painful and all directed inward.

Physiological responses to poison
spurred psychological responses
to the deed I had rendered upon
my poisoned body.

It was loneliness

That forced tears from
my eyes to a dirty towel that
was next to me on the bathroom floor
and all this I knew, was either the end
or the beginning of hell.

That day and the next
was proof.