A story about alcohol in poetry

ants crawl my drunken arms,

I try to make the truth a young girl in a very pretty little wish in a miniskirt so that people will at least at least look at it

Intoxication in poetry can feel like the first sip of something strangely sweet. An invitation to step beyond ordinary perception.

You think you recognize its warmth, yet there’s an undercurrent of unease, as though the words might slip past your tongue and leave you speechless. In those fleeting seconds, curiosity swells, and you realize: there is more hidden beneath every line than you first imagined.

"I have a feeling that drinking is a form of suicide where you're allowed to return to life and begin all over the next day."

Gently Uncorking Everyday Moments