I stared at the cliff’s edge,
and told myself
I was only going to dip
my feet in—
so tell me:
how am I up to my neck
in absinthe?
lord, help me:
I’m drowning
in obsession,
this liquid spirit,
like the Styx,
my psychic murk,
so acidic—
it burns me, it burns—
so why
do I crave it?
the self betrayal
of the poet.
radio silence,
the artist
gone quiet.
shut your mouth,
keep the food out,
but your words
in.
how quickly
did I jump ship—
haven’t written
a poem
in months.
did i dry the well?
it’s not hard
to tell:
gaunt eyes,
hollow shell.
I stopped looking
to the future.
instead of planning
my career,
fawning
over that
bright star,
I thought more
of how to fit
400 calories
into a single dinner.
a blessing
to choose
to eat less.
a blessing
to fret
over weighing more.
a blessing
to know this folly.
i will fall
into this trap again:
still,
i consider myself blessed.
I’m not a fraud.
I never lied once—
I fell, & fell hard,
but never hid the blood.
I saw the sickness
spreading through my marrow–
the blackest ink
in the most pristine waters—
I worked so hard,
& guarded this meadow
of my own making—
I tended to the Earth
& nursed her back to health,
so tell me: for bringing ruin
to my Eden,
how can I ever
forgive myself?
tonight,
i say enough.
binge, restrict:
the coin of self-loathing.
but my life is bigger
than being bigger.
isn’t that self love?
yea—
tonight, i say enough.
i
am enough.