Drunk Poems And Forever Wishing You're Better Than You Are

Before you know it,
the time tells a lie
and its twenty to midnight
this isn’t it.

That feeling you wanted,
isn’t here nor hidden under bed
it’s not visible or clear to eyes and head
step back, you couldn’t count it.

No figure or unit, number or letter
can define us in any quantity
a river can flow freely
but we’d not be better.

This is a drunk poem,
one that doesn’t make sense
nor one that can string a sentence
but it can relieve the moment.

In such harmony it can relieve the moment
co-existing in a world of letter
and no matter what it will get better
honestly it will, let it freeze- let it be frozen.