My tongue gets tied and plummets
to the basement of my stomach
and I’m scared shitless of mirrors
because I hate what stares at me

I hope my heart created pockets
of air or simple solace
when its walls caved in, and I dove and hid
as it collapsed upon on itself

We should never have built a home
on such insecure soil
but you were the architect who assured me
that my bones could bear the weight

And I’m sure you slept soundly
as I screamed beneath the rubble
and while at first hellbent, the mission went
from a rescue to counting corpses

Now this glass gets tilted upwards
until the ice cubes reach my mouth
and its contents crutch my soul
like your eyes and lips once did

And it resurrects these memories
that rip right fucking through me
like a wind in late October
making skeletons of trees

And their leaves will lie around me
like some red and orange graveyard
I only wish these waves of whiskey
would finally wash me out to sea