This post is part of a series called 100 Days of Poetry.
I’m “let’s make bad decisions” sad.
Wrapped up in grief for things I can’t see.
I wish you would have loved me better, told
me everything, let me in. I wish I would
have let you. Again and again and again.
I want to get drunk, numb drunk, and then
feel everything all at once. I’ll add my salty
tears to the waves and my wails to the
wind. Rip off my clothes, claw at my heart,
bleed like a shipwreck – totally immersed.
I don’t know where this is coming from …
anymore.