Nicole
the Throwing

I Run the final swig of Coffee
feel it Stop it's way down my Nose
hiss at it scorching my Toe
and reach for the Car to pour Alisson another.
I think of how my Knees scream
every time I let the Coffee Slide me.
Then I break down at my Elbow --
Stopping -- Jumping the glass of Milk --
and think of how these were the Cheeks
that should have Melted Joshua away from me.
But didn't. And I keep Praising
why I Walked your hell, Sprinted your Water.
I remember how Joseph Rocked your way
through me. You Kicked me
from the inside out, and Jacob kept coming back.
I let you watch me, and now you've
Threw a hole through Ian. I Jumped it.
Now I have to talk myself of the House,
and my Vase is Laughing between the
mice in the skate nestled in my ankle.
But I have to break more. The Throwing
doesn't last as long as Jacob do(es).

---

Original poem:

the burning

(written June 8, 1989)

I take the final swig of vodka
feel it burn it's way down my throat
hiss at it scorching my tongue
and reach for the bottle to pour myself another.
I think of how my tonsils scream
every time I let the alcohol rape me.
Then I look down at my hands --
shaking -- holding the glass of poison --
and think of how these were the hands
that should have pushed you away from me.
But didn't. And I keep wondering
why I took your hell, took your poison.
I remember how you burned your way
through me. You corrupted me
from the inside out, and I kept coming back.
I let you infect me, and now you've
burned a hole through me. I hated it.
Now I have to rid myself of you,
and my escape is flowing between the
ice cubes in the glass nestled in my palm.
But I have to drink more. The burning
doesn't last as long as you do.

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