Found and Denying It Still

the alcohol
pulls my veins to the side
and makes them matter not
to the happiness of my head

I could throw so much away
and not lose a thing
for the moment

sure a sun somewhere has a number
it's figuring is mine

but it is not,
not yet,
yet mine

for now I am invisible
or free

free under the darkness
and its fine black feathers

wind at my back
leaning on me with all reassurances
fueled by whatever no matter

fueled feels so good
so good to always
always come back here
again and again

but really
as often as this ends or begins well
it more often ends
an end all alone
or less than the sum
of all that went in
and away

so long to find a mind that was sound
or enough so
to be me

and all this time left
left to avoid it more