kill me the devil whatever the hell


We admitted we were powerless over alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable

It was all blackness when I woke up my pants were gone my face was bruised and I could barely see the moon peeking behind the trees. Stumbled to my feet betrayed me once again fell flat. Still drunk still dying inside even after all those times I promised myself and my thoughts that I would never end up like this again. Ohio Autummn was the devil trying to kill me the devil whatever the hell it was was always behind me poking me laughing taunting me. If it loved me like I foolishly thought the devil had a heart it would have never let me go this far it would have killed me before hand.
I thought it was six hours before that there was a party stairs and dollar bills people were laughing it wasn’t the devil it seemed it seemed like a good time. There was a box of venison and a old tavern that looked like a morgue. The bodies were stacked up grinding to country that didn’t belong in the city wherever the hell that was. He said he was a singer a guitarist some famous person from a 1970’s band. He stuck me in the back of the van with a drum set and two yellow dogs named Claire and Velo. His girl friend was in the front seat shaving her legs without water and talking on speakerphone to some disembodied voice that sounded like wire strung through teeth. The ride to their house was about forty five minutes but it went on forever down that road you wouldn’t walk down alone. His house was brown wood and carpet smelled of sex and cheap martinis, they let me take a bath and I wore a robe from Japan.

there was also that building that seemd to close to the ground with a drink in my hand. There I was again laughing and partying no care in the world my wings were at the dry cleaners I had accidently spilled blood on them three days before. I knew the owner got a discount and decided to leave them there for the hell of it. I couldn’t believe even without my wings I did not fall to my death which I should have. Labeled it a drunk mistake the poor girl had problems no one could have saved her.

so many bottoms endless ladders building bridges with a gasoline can and a book of matches.

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