Poetry Written in Gasoline...

...which is an analogy for my life.
I guess my confusion subsided, but unfortunately someone got hurt. I didn't mean for this to happen, but it did. It has pretty much subsided now though, we are talking again.

I am starting anew, from scratch, like a good bread recipe, only more rising time required.
I am waking up slowly, and reaching out my hand, to grasp what I've always wanted and needed. Seeking my truth as only I can. Much more weight this time. This is the story of how one night can weigh a ton. A metric ton that is. Making long the nights, making short the days.
Stepping forward on pieces of glass, only to enjoy the pain for a little while. Lets me know I'm alive, or at least that's what they say. A little blood never hurt anyone. Much too much, for so little. Conversations with myself, I always seem to lose. Oh well, it's probably just the booze.
Waking up in someone else's bed, just to realize, I'm already dead.