Sometimes I drink a glass of water like a staring contest,
It pours into me and I pour myself into it—
If it were endless I think I might stay there forever.
My tongue dries in my mouth
Like my eyes in their sockets
Just thinking of it,
I could scream to the heavens… but I won’t
Instead I’ll raise a glass and scream into it as it screams into me and I’ll drink it until it’s gone and if it’s never gone then I’ll never stop drinking
And then I’ll breathe.
Crisp
My dry tongue dances on the kind of air I breathe when I have to stop drinking.
I haven’t stopped drinking this poem yet
I’ll tell you when I do
If.
Written by Steph Wright