succumbing

succumbing

i hate you
that Blink-182 song
on repeat in my brain
"it's mother's day
i'll be..."
hating the redolent puss of my moral stance
oozing out of me
like the vomit a drunk
can't hold behind her clasped fingers
diseased
the state of my world forever
chemically altered
never mind the moments of pleasure
tricky slippery things
slide past
and i am abandoned