Therapy

Drunk.
My aim
As I drink
Beer after beer
Seeking out that fog
To steal away the thoughts
That are causing me to drink;
So that I can not feel the pain
That twists in my gut like a dull knife
Twisting fast and furiously though its
Blunted at the edge and rusted through...
With this fog can I find relief...
So I seek that merciful mist
In whatever bottled brew
That I may find close by
And so wash away
What I feel now
If only
For a
Spell.