to those of you hungover

[Bodey]

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