cringe.

outside
the sunrise stares behind grasping grays,
too early to finish
sounds of drum rolls pitched to a certain treble,
how it is
the day starts with lighting a cigarette.

here,
this room is filled with unfinished thoughts.
it awakens another of what is well wishing for,
squalor in demands
pity to deserve such and all you can draw..
wasting comes to the few delirious,
bereaved
in lucid repetitions.

not wanting enough water,
collapsed to a stance
minding the lack for soft and perplexed,
it bides me a pulse.
holding what maybe so dear..
i can taste it like her kiss.
mirth and gloom
looming from my fingers.

time reminds me to cringe
for the next drink perhaps,
and the next taking..