Body, Heal Thyself

Another Tuesday night.
Another traditional taco.
Another episode,
after another episode
of Californication
on Netflix.
Another bottle of rosé,
Another sip…
Another sip?
There had to be more.
Another toke
and the night
would be over.
Another sip,
another episode,
and the pain
of the day
was gone.
Medicated.
Off to Dreamland.
Safe.
For now…

from ringing
phones,
dramatice drones,
overwhelm.
Ill-fitting clothes,
hide-out spots,
the news cycle.
Even just
for eight short
hours, until
it all comes
flooding back in
with the daylight.

Shorn of the
drunken
stoned, and
mystic veil
she longs to
hide behind.
Another morning…

another multivitamin,
another green juice,
another playlist,
another commute.
Another day.

Crossing the threshold,
of the Corporate Cage,
and her own levels
of tolerance.

Another day,
fighting
an internal war;
tucked away
behind fakes smiles
and laughs
that don’t meet
her eyes…

Another turn
of the hamster wheel,
spinning around
in a battle
for her sanity,
turns into
another night,
stuck in a mold
from which
she may never
emerge,
forged,
by the wants,
and needs,
of the world
around her.

Down she goes,
another sip…

Another toke,
another episode,
another bite.
Delicious
comfort.

She’s buried.
So deep,
she isn’t sure
if there is even
a light,
at the end
of the tunnel.
Another strike,
fear in the gut,
another question
on a pile of
questions,
whirling pools
in her mind,
or is the room
just spinning?
Another sip…

This isn’t working, and
she knows it.
This isn’t healing, and
she knows it.
This isn’t helping, and
she knows it.

But what
she doesn’t
know
is how to fix
it, how
to flip, it,
how,
do people
go on
suffering,
like it’s
NO
BIG
FUCKING
DEAL,
is this real?
Do her problems,
exist?

How wounded
is she really?
Do her feelings,
or the black pit
in the core
of her being,
ever dark,
even matter?
Space,
time,
tick, tick,
another
heart beat
skipped,
another
breath,
lost,
another
episode,
coming on…

Panic,
ensues.
Tears,
Fall.
And before
there is even
a chance, for
another
sip…
She’s gone.

Not really,
gone, just,
not really,
there,
unaware,
outside of herself,
begging,
please…
bubbles from her lips,
between gasps,
please…

But what?
But who?

She pleads…

Fix this…

Stop…

Change…

Self…

Mind…

Help me…

Please…

Another prayer…

Body,
Heal thyself.