In a room alone,
and everyone else
is home and available
and it’s noon
and
I just had a mental breakdown
that traveled
over
from the day before
and rode on my neck
and
back
and
spine
and clung to my legs
and
took control of my ankles and feet
and of course it began
at my mind.
And now im in my room
alone—
drinking
a bottle—
and it’s wine
and it’s a big bottle
and I’m hiding the bottle
because it’s not the act of drinking
that brings
so much shame.
it’s the message in the bottle
being pushed onto shore,
sliding down my throat,
and so fluid
it brings confusion—
so much disarray—
and
I’m refusing to let them see this piece of me.
-MAS