I wish happiness wasn’t so far away. Sometimes you just have to give in. Let yourself scream. Feel those harsh echos burn your throat until there’s no air left to escape your lungs. Feel your esophagus seal words shut like the cap of the bottle we stole from your mom’s liquor cabinet. Olde English.

Now I spend my days sleeping longer than I should. I keep my blinds closed because the sun doesn’t feed me how it once did.

I remember what you always said. I remember how Olde English stung your throat as you coughed up the words through crooked teeth. I remember you saying it’ll be alright, no matter how quickly the days shed minutes.

Everything feels like a fever dream and I’m not sure if this sickness will ever leave me because it starts in my brain and ends in my heart. I hope everything will be alright, because I don’t pray how I used to- I can’t look at an alter without feeling sorrow. I think, “haven’t I felt sad enough?”. These things aren’t meant for me to answer. Take a few sips, let it burn, toss the rest over my shoulder and ask for a wish that I know will never come true. Olde English.

-AMT ©️