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wise&blue: Numb

ljmaslyn:

I remember the feeling each time you try to reach for the bottle.
Instead you reach through my chest, 
breaking my ribs like glass, 
tearing through my skin 
like a giddy, eight year old boy 
ripping through a piñata 
with an aluminum 
Louisville Slugger. 

I can feel it as the scars burst open 
leaving me open and exposed, 
unveiling my palpitating heart.  

There are your fingers, 
searching desperately 
for that plastic, Popov monster, 
finding only my veins and arteries 
to drink from 
and get drunk off of. 
You become frantic, 
digging deeper. 
Acid rain pours from my stomach. 
My head gets light. 
I see stars. 
I am numb. 
I am anxious/comfortable. 
I am numb.  

Beneath my eyes, 
buried under my cheeks, 
I can feel my heavy heart beating, 
struggling to make ends meet 
like a 45 year old auto mechanic 
in a faded blue, 
oil stained jumpsuit. 

My fingers twitch nervously, 
but I am composed. 
I am a well fitted suit 
on the body of the CEO of a fortune 500 company. 
I am a 3 year old Tootsie Roll 
getting hard in a bowl 
on a mid century dining table. 
I am cool, calm, and collected. 
I am the engine of a NASCAR vehicle. 
I am numb.

But I am okay.


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