A poem to remember the troubles of a 21-year-old man, 20 years ago

The Abyss, Part V (Feel cold)

I shed
My clothes
I lose
My soul
My head
Hits fog
My arms
Are logs
The walls
Are white
The light's
Too bright
My tongue
Feels cool
The stick
Is cruel
The door
Sticks out
Walk free
Walk out
But I
Feel cold
They shed
My clothes
With it
My soul
The scale's
Too light
I eat
All right
Don't stare
At that
It's there
It's fat
But they
Know well
I'm gone
A shell
The lines
Are long
My face
Is drawn
My clothes
They slip
I shed
Too quick
With me
I lull
I shed
My soul
The drink
They give
Is smooth
On skin
I sip
I wait
I lick
I taste
I drink
It lays
It tastes
Like clay
Drink more
I'm told
Be man
Be bold
It rolls
Way down
It sticks
It pounds
It sits
Down there
Where pain
Is where
I've lost
My soul
So keep
My clothes
I'll close
My nose
I'll drink
All those
And I'll
Compose