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sobering
by Angela Thomasforget it. forget me. it's okay. i want to fight the urge
to find out how deep my furi knife could cut into my wrists.
fight myself from wanting to jump in front of the 6 train
on the way home. i promise i wont't drink myself into a stupor.
the pain will subside. this sobriety, this true depth of living,
it will get better. eventually. but right now, i need to fight.
fight it hard. fight it alone. fight it and win. i think i'm doing
a damn good job so far. i'd like to think that this glass
of wine by my side agrees. i woke up this morning with his
knowledgeable hands in my quiet place full of a wetness, my mouth
open in a moan. alone in the bed, i couldn't shake the sensation.
or the feeling. like a starved body needs nourishment. a hunger.
i showered, i dressed, i went to work, i ate, i came home.
i'm still fighting. fighting it alone. but i'm still winning. 03/18/2008 Author's Note: sometimes the hardest things to stop doing are the things we want to so badly.
Posted on 03/19/2008
Copyright © 2024 Angela Thomas
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