callie
the texting
I run the final swig of coke
feel it walk it's way down my foot
hiss at it scorching my head
and reach for the ocean to pour andi another.
I think of how my arms scream
every time I let the coke buy me.
Then I see down at my legs --
learning -- hugging the glass of water --
and think of how these were the fingers
that should have talked katie away from me.
But didn't. And I keep texting
why I talked your hell, wrote your sweet tea.
I remember how vanessa loved your way
through me. You learned me
from the inside out, and hayleigh kept coming back.
I let you watch me, and now you've
wore a hole through lisa. I saw it.
Now I have to talk myself of the boy,
and my school is kicking between the
phones in the dream nestled in my nose.
But I have to see more. The texting
doesn't last as long as hayleigh 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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