poem: alcohol on zoloft

watching in the half-formed – now,
the suddenness of nothing; i sit, i
carefully implode. imagine
drinks & broadway at midnight,
swaying in my mirror like a banshee,
the erotic ancient women
spiraling in my mouth. the memory
comes – abruptly. Pictures
framed by rims of black, in which
i am naked, someone else:
the large dreams, the mansions,
the careful British decor. i
wake up
on my floor, the half-bottle
empty, the liquor like new blood,
vampire-bitten in my
mouth, my neck. mad woman, they say –
we have all grown
tired of the hallucinations,
the rivets and riots. control
your body into small streams; but
between my hands
i explode like clay,
the medications gossiping
in fat bottles, taken and
mistaken for love.

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