In my brand new stripey jumper-
with a paisley pattern shirt underneath;
slip on shoes that feel like slippers,
i'm so comfy
clean and sure of myself.
I feel like i'm a peacock-
strutting 'round the living room on my own;
i snort my last line from the mirror,
and light a fag up
on my way to the pub.
I'm feeling so fantastic-
my insecurities have vanished once more;
they won't come back until tomorrow,
so i'll enjoy myself
until they return.
In the nightclub, eyes are on me-
all the girls are really digging my moves;
throwing shapes across the dancefloor,
i feel so sexy
i'm the cock of the north.
It's back to mine after the lock in-
half the town invades my house for a smoke;
music blasts through open windows,
people stagger
'round as if in a trance.
But now the fear and dread's upon us-
as people filter from my flat one by one;
it seems like everything's decaying,
melancholy
now replaces the joy.
As my curtains catch the sunlight-
i can see that i'm alone in the room;
all i'm left with is the mirror,
a smudged reminder
of the damage that's done.
Adding your comment:
The mirror reflects truth back at us in more ways then one....a day in the life of a addict when he comes down from his high...alone with his mirror. You've done a superb job here with this,
you went from the high of anticipation to the stark loneliness and guilt of 'after'.
