never been happier for coloring in a
bowl
for it represents regaining life or the
lack thereof.
And I've never been so glad for pain.
A day ago, sight was depressing
The moon mocked, the stars gossiped,
the
bed disapproved, the table reminded,
the food
stung, the drinks smug, the pen
whispered,
the paper scorn, the people bled.
And I wept.
And I wept
because I needed fluids that sweat
won’t cut.
I wept because of the act that I did,
that I
consciously did, that was common and
normal and
perfect in almost every other
context than what I was in.
I need a drink.
My lips were cracking but I couldn’t
care less.
My pair seemed to be fissuring
as I was careless.
So hydrated before with his drink yet
now so desiccated.
Thank god for water.
Yes, thank God.
I have no religion but I prayed.
Desperate? Yes.
The only things that got me through
was his faith with me
and my faith in Him.
I pled for my ancestors to look over
me and I saw no angels
with wings but I’m glad they did.
Of course, this could all be in my
head.
But if anyone is up there, here is a
toast.
Love you, thank you
and let’s drink up!
Oh yes, make it red
wine please.
