my mind is awake
with you
dont leave me yet

the alcohol slips through your lips
is that pain i see?

it must be.

and the blunt isnt enough to mask it
either

i see you
broken

Her first text is at 10:13pm, from a friend, who needed to tell her that she still loves him. She reminds the friend calmly that he wasn't well and it was better for both of them to end it even though it felt like hell. He hurt you, she told the friend, he hurt you over and over, it'll be okay, you can cry on my shoulder.

Her second text comes in at 12:09am, from an old flame. He had one too many that evening and was going a little insane, "I miss you," he said and he heaved a long sigh, "I just want one more night, please one more night." She somehow managed to gently decline and called a mutual friend to give him a ride. She told the old flame that everything would be okay and to take a couple aspirin before he called the next day.

Her first call of the night, at 1:53am, comes from an old roommate who had relapsed and was back in that horrible place and the roommate was lying on the tile of a bathroom floor she couldn't recognize and her number was the only one she could recall after her fall. She talked down the helpless girl for an hour until she was well enough to get up from the tile. The roommate called her mom and got picked up and she hung up the phone, relieved to have some time for a nap.

She got two more calls that night and hundreds of more texts, but she got a couple of hours of rest before the next day of telling others everything was going to be okay.

8:00 PM Wednesday night and you're still on my mind
I can still feel the taste on my lips that intertwined
with the glass that held the drink so perfectly
as I swirl the glass around to take in your scent
and admire the color of your burgundy
I know your taste is heaven sent
You're one of my constants, I know it's meant

My love for wine is as deep as the Mariana's trench
With you, I wouldn't mind being drenched
Ain't nothing better than the feeling of wine drunk
It makes me wanna get loose and get crunk
Funny how wine is meant for the classy
When right now, I just wanna get ******

There’s a certain disharmony in the way of things,
and how it turns humans into monsters. I saw a monster turn a girl
into a woman with her clothes on the floor,

and he carved ‘liar’ on her chapped lips. I reached out when
she stood before me, holding a razor in one hand and whiskey
in the other. She had dashed lines on her wrists

and shattered glass at her feet. I feel like screaming, but my gums bleed
from a mouth full of broken metal wire.
I cannot tell you the story that sits on my shoulders like a child,
too young to understand the weight of himself.

Now my eyelids have been peeled from my face and
I cannot look away from the girl when she comes home after school
and asks me for help with her homework
because the least I can do is solve a few math problems.

Champagne drenched tears,
if only you knew how sour
they were tasting as they dripped
down my frigid cheekbones.

The alcohol couldn't burn the taste
of you away, but it numbed me
slightly for only a moment so I could
gain some spine-tingling clarity.

Buttermilk pancakes
and their sweet tasting batter.
Reminds me of when we stood in
your tiny Boston apartment kitchen
trying to cut lemons into slices
that we'd use as chasers
for our alcohol binges.

Sometimes I picture us back
on your roommate's couch
trying to make sense of the
useless television we put on.

The lies didn't cloud my vision
then like they do now.
If only you didn't leave me
like I meant nothing to you.