Katrina Kaye

I know I will feel alive again
once my blood is new baptized.

You see,
I forget,               at times,
during the merriment of
intoxication, that alcohol,
at its heart,

is a depressant,

and that I,
at my heart,                  am prone
to broken glass and bruised lips,
lonely basements and stray cats.

I am nothing more than another
painted face and missing tooth.

But by now I know this swing of mood is
merely the remnants of alcohol in veins; it is not personal.
It is a cross I drag between curse and revival.

You would think I would have known better
after all this time.

“I am waiting for the alcohol to leave my system.” is previously published in Madness Muse Press (2020).