Booze Part IV

Veiled freedom in the drink
Being a Way to speak kindly to them
Who when sober I speak nothing or worse.

Passages in pursuit, should I be?
I walk drifting then dreaming of times more like the old days
These old days I have never been a part of
But feel the lack of triumph and satisfaction in my heart.

Sometimes I want to push to the line
Fight myself to it, the line, and jump
Seek the syphilis like it could grant me power
Know the gutter so that it could show me the path.

A day or so later I want nothing but the mattress
forever there to rest the hard path being the wrong one
seeking abrupt cut off from the light.

Sleep and inhibitions suffer
I am embarassed at my kindness
go back to deeper silence
gone back to worse.