drinking
is bad for you, he says
I told him that my
numbness
was worse than any shot of liquor  
it's getting difficult to wake up
again
and I wish I could be a
better
friend
and I feel so bad for the people
who hurt like I do
your
hurting
and I don't know what to say
because I'm
not
sure that it will be okay
this poem doesn't mean anything
and I hope that means something

let me hold your hand

life isn’t that hard, he says
sometimes you just have to get in the car without putting your seatbelt on
sometimes you have to get in the wreck
you have to lose five huggies of blood to know what you’re made of

I tell him I don’t have the muscle for that type of therapy

he tells me I’m a fixer upper
the good kind that looks beautiful before she curls her hair and puts mascara on
the kind that doesn’t know how to walk in a straight line because there are too many possibilities
that always looks drunk when she’s driving because her heart doesn’t have a gps

I tell him to leave me alone

he says that when he saw me on that fateful sunday morning he knew I would be his only religion
I’m someone he can have faith in
someone he can believe

I haven’t drank in almost four months
he’s proud of me
he says he loves me, and I believe him