Bigger on the Inside

If you get real close
You can see behind my eyes
Behind the thick curtain of black mascara
I’m in there somewhere
I was never a strong swimmer
But I’m in there
Floating on these choppy fucking waters
In an inner tube
With a slow leak.
I can’t seem to find my way
To hard ground
And there are no boats in sight
And this poem sucks and is so predictable
Time to go home
To my empty house
And my half-empty bottle.
Goodnight.