Broken Vessel…


It’s 3 a.m., I’m awake, because you can’t drink heartache away. Believe me, I’ve tried. If you would’ve asked me two hours ago, I’d have sworn it was possible. 

For a moment, my head spun, giddy with forgetfulness. But, nothing is better for sobriety than the learning you are a stupid, naive, idiot, who would rather drink poison than walk away.

Instead, I plaster a smile on my face, cover my eyes in large sunglasses-hide the tears that silently leak from their corners as I go on my way. I’m a professional, dammit. I laugh, I sing, I make jokes, and small talk, I can make dinner, and I can make you think I make love. 

Because, I’m a broken vessel;I’ve picked up my pieces one-by-one, over and over again. Some days, I believe that I like what I’m seeing. Then days like today, break me apart. 

And I lay awake in the darkness and beg for the sunlight.

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