7

The Animal : Day I (Full Moon)

It calls me like a mother looking for her lost son.

Calling me to come home, to stay away from danger.

The Danger that hides in the shadows.

Danger that not even her light can show me.

I stay away from the shadows , a sense of preservation,

an instinct for survival.

I run home looking for its safety, 

I run for so long that I feel a transformation . 

A change from man to beast,

no longer waiting for the danger to come to me.

Instead, I'll look for it , I'll chase it,

I'll hunt it.

All my senses feel augmented,

I thank this bright pearl in the sky

for my new nature, my new form and 

my new vision.

I finally made it home, no dangers come after me.

No longer the beast, my humanity comebacks.

I know the animal still in me,

waiting to come back outside,

waiting for a new moon,

and

impatiently waiting to hunt.   

7

The Drunk : Day I ( The next morning)

I feel the nachos from last night,

I sense a battle coming. 

A battle between nachos and an old tuna sandwich.

They confront each other in a sea of Irish whiskey,

Mexican tequila, Russian vodka and of course

American Beer.

An international ocean of liquor and bad decisions,

My stomach. 

It is a battlefield but it feels like a graveyard.

Those last 2 shots of Jagermeister were unnecessary,

now they will be the trigger for the nuclear reaction

that will end the battle. 

I lay on my bedroom floor, 3 feet away from my bed

awaiting for the winner of this war.

The loser will have to evacuate my insides 

and the like a good host, I will show them the way out.

As they battle I can feel the strikes of the battle

piercing and tearing me apart. 

All of the sudden like a paralyzed man 

that has regain the ability to walk.

I spring up from the floor

I rush to the bathroom as it appears

we have the outcome of the battle. 

I feel the loser rushing up my throat 

I barely make it on time.

As I spit the loser out of me and into the bathroom

I hold for dear life to this porcelain goddess.

My feet go up on the air

like a demon is being exorcise out of my body. 

I know I  should look but I refuse to flush

without seeing the loser. 

In this cheese and bread disaster,

In this chili con carne and tuna massacre 

I see the result; An  Alliance.

The nachos and tuna combined forces

to escaped that desolated and damage environment 

I called my body. 

I wash my mouth looking for any remaining  "corpses" .

My kitchen floor feels cold, I'm still missing a sock. 

My eyes are barely open but I can see its shine.

I open the fridge and see the last beer

It's my roommates's, Should I?

Fuck it, It's only Monday

Let's get ready for battle.