If I'm not the problem, there is no solution.* Destiny disrupted by rusted liquor lust. Liquidated terror is the soup du jour. Stale coffee exacerbates the problem. Relapse hangs overhead like a grotesque mobile of alcoholic death. There's glitter in their eyes and a bottle of pills in their pocket. Smoking as self care. I want her to carve her love into my clavicle; I'm dangling by a thin gold chain.