happy wine wednesday.**

My hands smell like smoke and coffee
because nicotine and caffeine (and fluoxetine, duloxetine, paroxetine) make me remember to forget what it’s like to be this lonely.
There’s wine on my breath (9 dollar grape flavored paint stripper) and I'm so high my face could kiss the ceiling because this is what we call making friends.
And I know when I’m drunk I forget to remember to forget to feel and i spill out my heart to the lowest bidder (and I spill out my drink to my lowest cut top) but sometimes the foggyheavyblurry thoughts shared with a southern boy over a menthol make the moment mean more than I would have shared when I started writing this poem at 11am this morning.
And even though I forgot to wash my face and lock my door and my hands still smell like smoke and my heart is heavy with loneliness, I know I found solace in the simple smile he shared with me when I said
I was ****** up.
everything is fine.
everything is okay.
im fine.
im okay.