This Cup


Drank the sun down

Drank the sun back up

This cup filled with sand, ash and regret,

The hours have passed,

The minutes we forget.

We forget dates on calendars marked,

Trip, then sit on journeys embarked,

We lose count of the amount of times we said we can’t be fucked!

Ducked under duvets on Sundays,

In some ways

We just stayed still.

Time stops when you’re drinking

And you’re thinking,

Not true…

Week after week after week I’ve consumed.

Long night and long islands and a long hard look

at a long black in the morning,

Dawning on you, yet still you say

Nah, No way!

I’ve partied, had cocktails and been on benders for days,

Displayed behaviour questionable,

Been barely workplace presentable,

Unstable within moonlit, blackout evenings,

Leaving tables of empties,

Bottles aplenty hidden in plastic bags in boxes under beds,

This begs and beckons me up now with the sun

For if I must choose from these options,

then this is the one.

This cup filled with a double…


Time starts, we check we are present and then go

On dates on calendars marked.

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