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
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