#notesofadrunkenyoungsoul
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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
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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)
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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)
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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)
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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
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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)
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Notes of a Drunken Young Soul
All at once, the buzzing of atoms inside me reverberated from my spine through right down to the heel. It was some jolt of lightning blitz the deepest part of you. I had just woken up in the backseat of some car I didn’t know. Someone had spewed their guts in the mat, and I thought I knew who it might be. The sun wasn’t out yet, and the street lights were still going strong with a gentle hum. It hadn’t been that long I guess. I looked around and the house in front of me had music going and the chatter of humans echoing closely through the the empty lot next door. I got up to the porch and peered inside only to have a man walk outside from the entrance. “Shit Chris, how’re you feeling?”
“I need a beer.”
“I think you had a ton already man,” he said with a smirk, “besides Jens in the back all pissed because you said you’d take her with you tonight and you just ended up getting shitfaced outside.”
“Whose Jen?” I asked, half distracted by the cooler of beer I saw sitting inside through the window.
“MY SISTER? JENNY? You know the girl you were all goo goo eyes with and telling her all those things and what not?” At this point I could tell he was become upset with me. “You know what maybe it’s better if you just..”
“Chris?” A young girl in a nice white dress came outside, “You’re awake!! Good now we can get back to the party.” She came up to me and embraced me tightly and kissed me in the check, all the while smiling at the fact that we’d be picking up where we’d left off from earlier.
“Jen, he was just leaving, he got to drunk earlier and had to sleep it off for a bit so I put him in my car, but he says he doesn’t feel well even after napping.”
Jens face seemed a little disheartened, “Is that true? are you not feeling ok? if you want you can sleep it off in my room.”
“WHAT! Jen!? This loser isn’t staying in my house.
Jen spun around and hit right in her brothers face, “Shut the fuck up Stephen, it my house too, and I can shut this shit down whenever I want to, or did you forget who bought all the booze for your little party tonight?” Stephens face went from anger you shame in almost an instant “Now get inside and leave us alone.” She turned back to be and grabbed my hand, “you ok though?”
“Yeah, just need another beer and I’ll be straight.” I said grabbing her hand.
“Oh, let’s get inside, there’s plenty”
She grabbed me and pulled me inside and after a few more rounds, I was back where I started. Only this time there was a soft bed and a softer body. The room smelt like expensive perfume, and the sheets were silk and kind. The next morning I woke up, I didn’t find Jen in the bed with me. I stumbled to my feet and put in my clothes and shoes and hurried out the door. As I pushed out of the room, I heard dishing sounds of pots being shifted, while the aroma of bacon and eggs wafted through the air.
“Hey Chris!” Jens head popped from the kitchen, “I’m making some breakfast, you want some?”
I hadn’t eaten a decent meal in weeks, and the air only made my stomach lurch forward for whatever it was she had frying.
“Sure.” I said
She fixed me a healing plate and something small for herself and I filled myself with the eggs, bacon, pancakes and coffee. Nothing seemed to be so good at the time. The eggs cooked perfectly, the bacon ever so chewy. All the while, from across the table, Jen had her head resting in her hands, elbow propped on the table. There was still so much innocence to her, a lively figure who just didn’t seem to fit in to my normal crowd. After I was done I chugged the coffee down and started to get up.
“I’ll see you again right?” Jen asked “maybe we can catch a movie or something?”
“I don’t particularly like movie.” I said as I looked through my pockets for a cigarette.
“Oh, well Uh, you have my number. Im sure can figure something out and get together soon.” she said
“Yeah, you have a cigarette?” I asked
“No, I don’t smoke…”
“Alright, I gotta get going, we’ll talk soon.” I tried to walk off, but she gave me a quick hug and smile. There it was again, that innocence. Somehow I think she new I wouldn’t call. As I walked out the door, she probably felt this would be the last time she saw me. As I walked out, I saw Stephen in the back seat with a rag and a bucket. His eyes met mine and like daggers I knew he wished to run one right through my heart.
“Hey Stephen, you got a cigarette?”
“Fuck you chris! Get the fuck out of here before I beat your ass.”
Worth a shot, I guess. I walked over to the nearest gas station, pulled out a 5 and got a pack of cigarettes. Packed it, pulled one out and lit it right next to the pump. I lived closer to death. Closer to life. I watched the sun come up to many times. Life was strange.
-Grimhearted
(8.21.2022)
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Notes of a Drunken Young Soul
most days
it was wondering where it all went
filled to little at a time when it counted
or to much at once, when it wasn’t necessary
you lost jobs you hated
sold your blood for a six pack
and the buses seemed to run late just for you
even though you never wanted to go anywhere
what an existence
what a plan
a sunrise so delicate
it almost felt welcoming
until the heat settled
like a plague
like ringworm
like a tooth you couldn’t afford to fix
what a plan
what an existence.
(8.6.2022)
-grimhearted
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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)
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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)
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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)
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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)
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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)
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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)
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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)
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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)
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