#notesofadrunkenyoungsoul

[grimhearted]

Notes of a Drunken Young Soul

Your hands still turn everything to mud. Growing up didn’t change who you are, just gave it more definition. Now, more empty than ever, you score down another swig of bourbon. That cough has persisted for a week now. The apartment lights never seemed this dim. The cracks on the ceiling, seem to be a testament to the crevasses you created in your own life. Craters of hopeful desires, filled to the brim with the beer and liquor you chose to replace all that desire. It’s hard to land right side up, when the position everyone’s always seen you in, is down.

Grimhearted

12.6.2022

[grimhearted]

Notes of a Drunken Young Soul

less weight in sadder hearts

nothing beat the shadows already living there

but peace resembled pain

the length of time alone

mail stacked in a box

but the pen never stopped writing

the streetlights always flickered

the noise always dulled around 2:00 am

always returning in its ferocious display

life never got easier

just a little more bearable

that may be fine too.

Grimhearted

(8.30.22)

[grimhearted]

Notes of a Drunken Young Soul

you gave up most of your life for it, right? half cocked, in a fit of rage, pants down, not knowing where the fuck you came from. the room was hotter in the summer and deadly in the winter, but you preferred the summer because you could let your balls hang out and drape over the sofa cushions. the mentality of a drain, taking it all in, all this shit and piss any one man could dissolve from the depths of his kidneys. there shouldn’t be any subtlety in poetry, keep it straight, like whiskey.

-Grimhearted

(08.19.2022)

[grimhearted]

Notes of a Drunken Young Soul

Passion

between a thousand pages

with a bookmark

so worn,

so many pages behind its back

stories upon stories

legs aching at the next step up

it use to be easy

turning to the next page

moving the chapter forward

and now

the tale still continues

only the the beginning pages

already read

seem thicker

than the ones to follow.

-Grimhearted

(8.18.2021)

[grimhearted]

Notes of a Drunken Young Soul

in then out

the crunch of leaves below the soul

the miles make the journey

who know what’s there

living in you

in then out

the strength of your breath degrades

there is unnerving quiet

the ticks of your wristwatch

can so clearly be heard

this pulsating sensation

erupting at the tips of you figures

sinking to the back of your head

legs heavy

you’ve made this journey far to many times

the walls were always white and gray

you’ve traded them for distance

sometimes that’s all we have left

sometimes the miles feel easier

than the steps we didn’t take

they were there

locked behind some door

you just refused to find the key

two tones and two sips later

head speckled across the pavement

dim

so dim

disgust is now

the object of permanence

you wear it proudly across your face

living by ratios

divided by the percentage

death so accurate

your picture framed in every mural

all to represent what could have been

like every other tuesday.

(8.9.2022)

- Grimhearted

[grimhearted]

Notes of a Drunken Young Soul

I think the world

just didn’t have any luck to spare

it ran out dry a couple years back

it didn’t give me anything more

than a few sprinkles here and there

before, nothing ever came

just had to beat it

till I new it was dry

drier than eyes

so desperate to wake up

to go to shitty jobs

dealing with shitty people

their lives so caught up

in their own wasteful design

but I had kids to feed

responsibilities to be met

luck didn’t give its best to me

I’d have to make it on my own

not enough to be given

so much more I couldn’t give

so much more I wish I had.

-grimhearted

(08.05.2022)

[grimhearted]

Notes of a Drunken Young Soul

some people just don’t have good bodies i guess

some can be famous 

just by putting one foot in front of the other

faster than the next person

if only mine could

i should be able to wallow 

about my own circumstance

left to just sit patiently between these hospital blinds

the only excitement being all the drugs they pump

directly into you veins

if just for a second

if i could feel what things once were

understand why I’m here now

remember the wind

as it rolls against my cheeks

just one more time.

-grimhearted

(08.23.2020)

[grimhearted]

Notes of a Drunken Young Soul

This time

life won’t bend me

I’ll find something that bites back

there’ll be a reason for good

and a motion to calm

I’ll play silence as a good friend

and put good sentiment in

the world will see a new me

the world will find me

oceans away from myself

pushed by a current to change

the deepening sorrow, melting at the tips

so anxious to be free

now set into motion.

Grimhearted

(06.24.2020)

[grimhearted]

Notes of a Drunken Young Soul

some sun over the horizon

while waking up to “good morning’s”

as she made bacon in her underwear

she had seen a flurry of misfortune

and in that

i suppose

we shared much of

already a mother

yet still just children ourselves

we had found some peace

trying to fill it

with monday nights

with sweet wine

with each other

sorrow at every gate

while cold hands

turned to warmer hearts

with sweeter thighs

and lingering lips

the reality of sharing no luck

whilst bombarded with weights

that settled at the ankles.

-grimhearted

(05.08.2020)

[grimhearted]

Notes of a Drunken Young Soul

i couldn’t tell you how all the fishes in the tank died, or how every smashed plate seemed to match everything around me. it was to sudden to understand why things turned out like this. more fires and less water, while the couch in the corner, seemed so much more inviting. dedicated to finding some idea of who i am and where the lines in the sand can be drawn.

grimhearted

(02.05.2020)

[grimhearted]

Notes of a Drunken Young Soul

doubt and anxiety

the candle burnt on two ends

and while preservation

ment being huddled between dreams

the lasting fragrance

at the tip of a cigarette butt

was far more alluring

and the corners felt more welcoming

her hands

so delicate

finally, some room to breath

inhale the next pack

stuck in this underachieving effect

buckled in

only this ride really doesn’t lead

anywhere.

grimhearted

(2.7.2020)

[grimhearted]

Notes of a Drunken Young Soul

five hours of sleep

resulting in writing poetry at 4:30 in the morning

something must sustain me

i don’t know if anyone will read this

it’s a pile either way

more of what’s inside

depression

anxiety

anger

chalked up to two hands

rubbing against one another

while i figure the next step

shuffling the deck

getting a perfect hand

and folding to the damn world bluffing

what is writing at 4:35am?

what is figuring out sentiments?

it felt like i stumbled half way into my life

and couldn’t find a reasonable way to get up

how funny

just how things sometimes made sense

and other times

it felt like

i didn’t even deserve to be myself.

how funny.

-grimhearted

(1.9.2020)

[grimhearted]

Notes of a Drunken Young Soul

i learned each door made a different sound

i found some to be more comforting than others

i saw the people inside of them

didn’t always have much

but within each of them

lay a galaxy

all their own

and while at times

the sounds of the doors closing behind me

weren’t always on the best of terms

i found some to always be open

instilled with

hope

desire

anguish

love

pain

all the while still welcoming some stranger

into the world that was all their making.

-grimhearted

(2.29.2020)

[grimhearted]

Notes of a Drunken Young Soul

the spaces between the couch cushions

where all the bullshit seemed to fall

and the dreams had on them

elevated this experience

an expression hastily made

drowning the misery that settled in

it’s fuck all now

the whole damn thing

far more sour than the whiskey

the windows broken

the dishes stacked

some sort of disrepair

drown another shooter

four bottles left

one soul to burn

hell never seemed so close

grimhearted

(2.24.2020)

[grimhearted]

Notes of a Drunken Young Soul

Sometimes, the world just gave it all back. Sometimes, songs just didn’t have anymore meaning. Whatever these hands drew, you’d somehow see some glimpse of it. Recovering on a hospital bed, teetering between her eyes. You’d see it. In the brittle faces of the ones who’ve touched it. Felt it. In early mornings, between another body, and stitched in the sheets which caress them. Horizons better felt in youthful love, yet fully realized in three glasses of gin.

grimhearted

(2.21.2020)

[grimhearted]

Notes of a Drunken Young Soul

I wish it were that easy. My mind revolves around every design, of myself, this world. At times, control seems to be the thing I continuously lack. Control over my emotions, my thoughts, my habits. As focused in ones own destruction, as one can be. I barter emotions for wine, and feel the liquor quell sorrow, while looking so fervently at what I’ve lost, and what little I’ve gained.

grimhearted

(12.31.19)