I don’t drink much. I can remember the last time I was drunk,
and that was months ago. One, maybe two. Then I’m done.
Being drunk only amplifies whatever mood my heart is in.
But one or two, and that softens it. The gray sadness
becomes a little more dull, a little more bearable.
Tonight I’m drinking water and it occurs to me;
I want a drink.
I drink and his grip loosens
He doesn’t like the smell of it
So I drink a little bit more and he stops holding me
I drink and drink to get him to go away
To leave me with this smile and a lack of hurt
And it feels so good to laugh
Without a barrage of tears threatening to storm
So I laugh and I like this feeling of being alone
Without being lonely from him
Because once I sober up
Once the drinking ceases
And the world isn’t spinning on its axis
He’ll come back with his arms open wide
And his lips pressed to my ear whispering,
“I’ve missed you.”