Creative Writing

Red eyes. [Freeform Poem]

Stranger days; I’m so believing 

of all that you say. I don’t forget 

yet I feign disconnect like 

I’m seldom perceiving. 
 

It’s a terrible sweetness, 

turned tart in my mouth. Still I feel it now 

as I desperately down cup after cup 

in the attempt to shut up the hiss in my head. 
 

They cleanse my skin, the drink and the soap. 

I’m grasping at hope. 

It’s unnerving to think 

about what we have said. 

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