Agency

Howdy folks! Haven’t posted in a bit but I hope you like the poem (even though it kinda sucks). Without further ado…

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Agency

It feels like it always did, I think.

I drink.

I’m trying to find the missing link.

I sink.

The drowned man is never dead,

for there he sleeps inside his bed,

with all the bad little things

that are just inside his head.

Whiskey in the barrel,

whiskey in the cup,

whiskey in the bottle,

whiskey in the cup.

Drink, drank, drunk.

Something in the night that makes a thump.

I cannot see,

I cannot hear,

I cannot bear to be so free.

So here I sit

and bide my time,

for it means much to me

that there be roots beneath this tree.