Holy shit, what did I do? I think, as I wipe the drool from my face. Sitting up and rubbing my head, I try to remember how exactly I got myself to bed, but I can’t figure it out. I can’t recall much of anything from last night besides falling when I first got to the bar. I was still sober at that point, too. I get up and shuffle down the hall. I gotta take a piss. “Fuck,” I curse as stub my toe on my phone. I must have thrown it on the ground last night when I got home. I pick it up. God dammit, I think, when I see that I called Her five times last night between three and four a.m. I try to think of what I said, but I still can’t remember anything besides tripping on the curb on the way into the bar. I put my phone on the charger. Then I get to the toilet. I still have to piss. But the rim of thing is covered in dried vomit. Fucking hell. I piss anyway, and I tell myself that I’ll clean it up later, even though I know that it may be days before I get around to it. Whatever. And then I see my face. Is that my face? I can’t be sure. It doesn’t look like me. Well, at least not in the way that I remember myself looking. This face in the mirror is too saggy to be mine. Too sad to be mine. Or is it? I guess I don’t know how I’m supposed to look anymore. So this must be it. This sad, saggy face must be mine, with these bags hanging hopelessly beneath my eyes, and my cheeks being dragged down by the hands of Lucifer himself. It doesn’t look like me. Or it doesn’t look how I want myself to look. But it is me.
Every Morning
Posted bylou rasmusPosted inShort StoriesTags:#Alcoholic, #Depression, #life, #poem, #poetry, #Writer, art, drawing

Published by lou rasmus
Lou Rasmus is an independent author from Chicago, IL. His works are largely focused on exploring the meaning of life – or lack thereof – while the themes of love, relationships, and self-loathing are also central to many of his stories. His upcoming novel, Primrose Isle, will be his third self-published title. Grapefruit Juice, a collection of bitter poems and short stories, and DEAD RED FISH, his semi-autobiographical debut novel about a young man coming to age on a road trip with his childhood friends, are also available on Amazon. View more posts
Happens a lot when I don’t pay enough attention to myself as well, love your honesty in this.
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yup.. thank you for reading
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You’re like the Bobby Hull of getting shitfaced. A blonde haired golden rocket of sick and piss and bad manners.
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hahah thats one of the best comments ive ever received. i take it as a compliment, thanks
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I was thinking of Phil Esposito at first, you know that time he fell on his ass in front of the soviet premier during the 72 summit series. But Bobby Hull fits you much better. Kinda magnificent.
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haha well thank you
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Haha! That was pretty truthfull and fucking kool at the same time! 👍👍👍👍
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that is very kind. thank you
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No probz!👌
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I enjoy your conversational writing , it’s excellent.
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thats nice of you. thanks
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You’re welcome
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