Unacceptable Apologetic
Johanna M. Geiger
I drank too much again on a Saturday night
embarrassed myself in front of our friends.
Each after morning I think, “this has got to end.”
spinning consciousness, pounding temple anarchy, disorientation
Reimagining all the things said and wishing
somehow
they could be plucked back from the fused night.
The consistent cruelties are knocking out our shades.
A seemingly all-or-nothing approach is
what it must be. You insist I am not quite to the point of needing a shovel.
I am already being buried under the weight of my own negligence.
This is not how I should be loving our relationship, my body.
