the thing about making the moment more bearable

is that it hurts more

at first, before you melt into

feeling okay for a moment.


the poets drink to

find their art sometimes, and it’s not the worst way to

fall into healing. there needs to be a bridge,

something shaky to get them to the edge - the place

where danger is dull, and the moment is so lost that

it’s only a distraction, and that is for the best.


i want to promise myself that i cannot be taken

more into disillusion. that there are places and people

to plant roots in. that i can survive the present

without forfeiting my future.


the prayer in the bottle, the pleading in the puff.

i am blessed, but not enough.


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© 2018 by D. Inez "Z" Bell