52nd and 3rd Ave

My hurt echoes into my cloth. 

It’s loud, primal.

A swollen jaw houses clenched teeth and a bruised tongue.

Brain slams against the wall, I disconnect.

How long have I been in this stall?

Toilets suck up the filth, I am unmoved.

Light bones creep to the sink, bloody hands 

put on my face. 

I scream into my cloth. 

Softer, desperate.

Something is dying.

I practice my charm in the mirror

And meet her in the sun.

Today we are burying my addiction for the third time.