Vodka Straw

I think,
when the light goes out
reality twists.

A million ants in this ant hill.
Whatever career fits.

Stumbling past neon lights,
thinking of chances I missed.

And I wonder.
Maybe there's love somewhere
haunting my dreams,
a figure with sturdy hands
longing to find me.

I know.

My stomach twists and turns,
I haven't slept in days.
The sky turns a purple haze,
waiting for a brighter day
when this crystal city crumbles.

I'm coming to find you.

I stir my vodka with my straw
and I'm sure we both know

That doesn't seem like me,
does it?
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when disjointed lines come together on a scale for poetic disturbance on inebriated nights. My version of eternal sunshine of the spotless mind...