facing the sun.

if i get

winedrunk

i know the

nightmares

will come.

(the ones

of dark forests and lost

girls)

yet i drink

to see how far

into my

fear

i can wander.

i water

(with wine)

the growing

in my throat

that has pushed up against

the inside of

my lips

a mangled mass of

wordsbranchesthorns

that scar my gums,

leaving a bitterbloody taste

on my tounge.

i stain

teeth and branches

deep purple,

and i'm not sure if

i feel

afraid

or

brave

or

nothing at all.

i am so

intoxicated

i forget that

i have feet,

(roots?)

& so i fall

onto the ground

at least

now

the tangles

in my throat

are facing

the

sun.