Rhymes & Reasons

Entry LXXIX:

01.23.23

Hope is a poison I drank every night. My chest constricts at every gulp but I love the squeezing pain it brings; the sour taste that blends within; the grimace that flashes across my face; it makes me feel unwanted but I still love taking the role in Mr. Cupid's game. I knew the arrow would hit me, but it'd hurt me good. I would certainly bleed, but I'd bleed like paintings displayed in museums. Pain is an art. And I am a masterpiece.

—georginariver, an excerpt from 'wine of regrets'