Another catalyst to backtrack
into the past. My mind keeps on
rewriting, as though trying
to rebirth the parts I hated.
Maybe it's better than missing
the parts I loved. Part of the problem
is that half of what I love is bad for me
and it feels like the only way
to tone down one bad habit
is to get involved with another.
I prefer my wine sweet,
but I like how the red looks like rivulets of blood
and has a higher alcohol content.
At least I don't keep vodka inside my own home anymore.
Maybe I'm a dumb cliché.
I have my own thoughts, but I tone them down
because they're overly anxious
and frenzied and obsessive and compulsive
and I wake up feeling embarrassed
by my own brain.
I could call it a deluge,
but that would make it sound more powerful
and important than it actually is.
My friend told me she was reading a book
that viewed addiction as a learning disability.
I didn't say it out loud, but inside my own head
I immediately wondered
if I might be disabled in more than one way.
At least I try my best to be honest
inside my own addled brain.
Juliet Cook is a grotesque glitter witch medusa hybrid brimming with black, grey, silver, purple, and dark red explosions. She is drawn to poetry, abstract visual art, and other forms of expression. Her poetry has appeared in a peculiar multitude of literary publications. You can find out more at www.JulietCook.weebly.com.