[now that i'm sober
i take back what i said
i'm sitting with this love hangover]
and ****, it's hurting my head.
every time, i get drunk
on these feelings
wine, whining for you to let me in
i regret the moments that follow
where i wake up, my left eye
pounding so hard
from where it feels like a black eye should be
because that's what was there
before, you.
and **** it, to back peddle into a puddle
of rain and mud and blood
feels too much like these exercises i've done before
where i'm learning again and again
that i'm some kind of *****
who can't be trusted with my own mind
or heart, rather.
because my mind is solid, but
my heart is the issue, on my sleeve
constantly aching and working and feeling
looking to find that one
that has been in my mind for so long.
the ideal.
the idea.
but what is really missing here?
ah, I see it again.
I am.
I think I won't drink this poison anymore
and instead,
just relax into the life that I've needed to relax into.
I think I'll sit for once
and not stand up
because it has become too difficult
to stand in these heels.
I think I'll rest.
Quiet now, you restless soul.
bottle is on the floor,
let it roll.