Poppadom Shark

i am empty
and yet i am full
of metaphors that leave me so blue
of whiskey and cider
and figures of speech
tasted sensations that were out of my reach

hair of the wolf that is supposed to cure
this hangover from you leaves me impure
confusion and wine from a hospital bed
i'll never admit the things i have said

a pile of papers
letters to you
crumpled and filled with little untruths
lies that i say
they help me to sleep
all for the shark
i wish i could keep