You said
that I must be drinking
to try to ease
the pain.
I guess you were half
right.
By which I mean
drinking
never really eased
the pain
for me.
It only fucked up
my vocabulary.
It killed all the decorative words
that I had
for the ache.
It took it from
describable
and made it dull,
general
and unspeakable.
It became
a faceless, mysterious thing
brandishing a knife
vaguely made out of
her name.
Originally published in deluge.
