to those of you hungover
 

metallic taste in my mouth, yet again anxious
layin draped on the couch like a wrinkled wet blanket
lower lip burns, but i kinda like the sting
my black & blue reflections always tell me everything
the nightmares, she rides 'em. a dirty girl indeed
she might swear not to like 'em but she lies if ya ask me
stale potato chips clingin at the corners of my mouth
stomach clenching in a twist, i just might shit myself
curly hair frizzied, oily skin and dizzy
liver's itchin to lynch me til i coil to a stilling
fallin from my family tree, watch my body clunk
hit every nook and cranny; gee, what a sloppy drunk

I liked the ending a little, but this little verse wasn't much to look at, no pun intended. Just no creative energy behind it really. I dig the vibe of it being something dark and real but that's not enough to make it feel like something worth while. More poetic than anything, I'd say. Honestly I think it was the fact that I've seen similar angles from other writers in the past. The depressed, deep-thinking type of insight. It works sometimes, but usually doesn't provide enough excitement for the reader. Stay up.

Thanks for the honest feedback. I feel like I've lost my edge and it sucks