forever damned to seek distraction. destruction.
libations offered to those ruling this small, vast mind. drink poured down our throats to coat the overwhelming sense that we might not be strong enough for the next hit.
liquor will sober us up, make us stronger ‘gainst the next blow.
but we forget that strike is internal, & seeks out for our weakest moments. generally those come after a second glass of brandy. or wine, if we feel that tears could unburden us for the night. brandy only makes us angry, ready to swing or insult. often, that too turns inward & brutal.
we pick our face in the mirror, scratching away blemishes & imperfections until they’re nothing but blood spilt onto the counter. we scrub our skin until we see raw flesh. a new, painful start. they say the cells in your body cycle out every seven years. why not give them a head start, help them out?
adding a substance or two couldn’t hurt. a high can replace the serotonin. it certainly couldn’t be worse
than an undulating pain underneath the surface. maybe that’s why we scratch & pull so much — something in there is dying to escape.
in reality, it’s a scream, a cry for help, a sob of pain. i can’t remember the last time i let myself feel the rain. or even the cut of the wind on my skin. but i’ve walked miles in this city without the slightest feeling. my shoes, they blister my feet; my body is tired. i can keep walking as if it were my first, unbridled step. freedom to run, maybe to hide. but demons tend to catch up with you when hosted inside.
a sip of water quenches a desert thirst & for a moment today, i could feel it again. it felt something like hope, something like home.
bride to regret, fear likes to stomp out the light & tell us that this will never be the same again. & there is a very good chance that it won’t. you cannot unbreak a shattered urn.
but not all is lost in breaking. perhaps in breaking, we begin to take on our true shape. perhaps in breaking, we lose what we hold that no longer remains of use to us in this world. urns are for what is dead & gone. we must remake ourselves until we are useful to what we need now. & that is live-giving water.
until then, drop me. i need to reform.