Wake up next to the toilet
Face hangs
Like a shopping bag
Pulled and stretched
Stains of un-well spent last minute help me get drunker
vomit
That missed the target
The lights and extractor fan hiss and spit
And aid the convulsing pain
Nails slowly scraped under the skull
The red soaked cistern from an angry ulcer
Which
As the night goes on
It opens up in vengeful painful spite
The taste of iron and bile and the regrets of last night
Get up, get clean and dress
Stare into the cup of coffee you don’t remember making
A body barely held together
Everything inside is broken
Except the skin
That holds it all in
A sack of a man but one that must keep going.
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