Ode To Peach Amsterdam Vodka

you are the sick the disgust in the swallow the cringe in the choking we are the same in our affections cheap and quick taste and spit we are the same in our forgiveness heavy and grieving a bathroom floor bereavement a curved spine casualty empty unflattering and unforgetting in all your doing i lie heavy a fish bowl of a stomach a stomach of a body solemnly swaying you were the stranger at the first funeral the child poking my body thinking i'll open my eyes not knowing the ghosts would come for you too or how the bitterness would travel or how quickly you must stumble to stay safe you held my hand dragged me to the cold tile dropped me to see if i would bounce or break bent me over the sink and drenched me unholy you were the sheets suffocating me that night the pillows i've chewed through you were the fault of it all the downhill spiral and the homesick and the earthquakes and the heartbreaks the crying and the spilled milk you are the hunter rifle in hand coward in eyes you were the wind chasing that bullet you were the stranger at every funeral to come picking and prying and smacking and slicing and sometimes i worried you would not show up would not tower over my body watch me gagged and restrained but you always came thought that being dizzy made me prettier you never missed a party if you knew i'd wake up bruised