Swallow the pill, swallow the thought. You're never going to love again.
Swallow a drink, take a shot. Let the words be pushed farther down your throat. Maybe they'll be brought up and through your lips like a hiccup. You'll never be loved again.
Cough on the burn in your throat, lick your wounds (and the salt), squeeze the lemon over the mouth that lost it all.
YOU ARE READING
Blue Eyes and Other Sources of Drowning
PoesiaFor the boy with blue eyes. For the love and friendship I grieved, and many other things. Started: 11/20/20 Finished: 8/8/22 My 8th poetry book.