Pull, from the deepest regions of your mind,

your sorrows;

Spin from them a wooly sweater and notice how

Your sweater, made of dead and moth eaten heartache,

Keeps you warm;

Keeps you comfortable.

 

Draw yourself a bath, but switch out water for whiskey and

Try to scrub off

All of the dirt, grime, and every bad time

You’ve ever encountered;

Drown yourself in the warm stench of alcohol

Until your finger and toes prune and you reek of past mistakes.

 

Go out every night;

Flirt with death and make love to danger -

Fall in love with lost memories and

Charm the night.

Pretend you’re happy;

Pretend you’re full of the very life you’re on the brink of losing.

 

Let the stars in the night fill you up

And eat regret for breakfast in the morning.

Watch your skin flake away and

Your bones turn to dust

As you put flowers in your tangled hair and

Dance in meadows that no longer exist.

 
 

Published by Jasmine Uitto