My finest moments were at night, when I didn't hear the scoff of disappointment, but peace from the darkness that swallowed me.
But when you were gone, the peace went with you, like a child dragging behind it a ragged old doll that is never let go.
One shot wasn't enough to erase you from my memory. Not even for one night was I at peace will the loss of you. The lack of sound I would hear at night, when I didn't hear you was the loudest noise I could have ever endured.
Two shots only dulled the burn in the back of my throat, allowing the tears to go down easily.
Three shots were like gunshots, each one banging in my mind as I tipped my head back and tried to shoot the back of my throat with alcohol rather than the steel bullets I wanted to use.
Four shots and illusions came flooding down like water on a cold, desperate, rainy night.
Five and morning came too soon, the sun burning against my lids, throat burning with unshed tears made of liquor and the sound of your voice pounding through my head, calling out my name over and over in desperate hunger.
You were lost. A truth I didn't want to admit was true, so I ran and hid behind the tall, glass shots of liquor and despair mixed with tears and longing for a companionship that wouldn't work out.
Eventually the liquor came back up, reminding me I can't hide behind it forever and I slept until the nightmares engulfed me, making me forget about my weakness and making me remember my strengths... Making me remember about a time when you weren't more important than the oxygen I needed to live or the blood that needed to pound through my veins to keep my heart going.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry
Puisi"I don't try to call myself a poet. But I know that my stuff is pretty literal, and the themes are pretty simple and on the surface." -Bo Burnham It's in the title and yet you came here, to check that I won't steer you incorrectly. Go in and have a...
