hungover pissed off poetry

how i hate thee, treacherous heart,
weakest link, squishy part,
up a hill and down a dale,
lead'st thou me, through fearsome gale,
clouding vision, judgement nought,
the way forward with brambles fraught,
no clue towards what end I go,
if there's even a path 'neath all the snow,
wanton lust and puerile shame,
are there even rules to this game,

are there even other players
is it a row of empty chai'irs
with phantoms of my mind astride,
some grinning masks with puppy eyes
some swaying forth with lustful lips
some yet distant, shimmering still
all lies, all lies, all lies, all lies