Presently

The drink's doing its magic
in my veins.
My head is spinning,
my fingers are numb,
memories are fading
and as for regrets,
right now,
surprisingly,
thankfully:
I have none.

But a deep part of me
wonders
wanders
thinks
doubts
should I embrace
my new-found
state
or should I
expel it
like an unwelcomed spirit
feeding on my soul?

Who cares?

There's another glass
in front of me,
it's time to drink to
all the things we should drink to:
Regrets,
hopes,
loss,
grief,
the future.

Always the future.
Never forget there is one,
no matter what it is,
it's waiting for you and me,
it is lying in wait,
its jaws open wide.

Ah, shit,
let's drink to a bright
future,
a happy
future,
an actual future.
Or, why the hell not,
let's just drink
because we
want to
need to.

Let me embrace my demons
and my angels,
let me dance
with the fairies
and the djinns
inhabiting my mind.

Let my soul
be carefree
and let it
dance forever.

Forever.

Drink

Come on my love,
my sweet and dearest friend,
let me pull you up a chair.
Sit by my side,
I beg you please,
just sit for a while.

Let's open that bottle
we've been saving for
a special day,
let's fill our glasses
and drink,
drink,
drink
until we forget
who
and
where
we are.

Let's drink to our friends,
the ones we have and love,
the ones we take for granted,
and,
of course,
always,
the ones
who have moved on
to the other side,
their numbers growing
with each passing day.
But let's also drink to
the friends we'll meet some day,
or perhaps in another life.
Most of all,
let's drink to us.

Our heads are full of
memories and what-ifs.
We need to drink to forget,
we have to drink
to live.
We need to drink
to be able to drink some more.
We'll drink until the bottles
are empty and
the glasses
have all been smashed
against the mirror.

We'll drink to forget what
we have lived through
and what we're living now.
We'll drink to forget tomorrow,
and might even end up
in a tangled mess
of sweaty limbs
and more regrets.

Most of all,
we need to drink
and hope that tomorrow
won't bring in that
ominous gray cloud.
But, should it come,
well, hell,
then I guess we'll
just have to drink
our tears.