Succor for the Beast

Wishing for a way to stop the press of lonliness,
Or the anxiety in my every breath...

I spread bitter gifts on the ground and they soak into the earth,
Like water for the seed.

And then the gift of wine--succor for the Beast.

I bartered my life away for a handful of pills.

Now I worry that I'm someone else,
Someone I could be but don't recognize.

But she is me, a part of me
I'll always be--Like a hole born to a heart.

Working toward something,
Pretending I'm a part of my own future--
It feels strange.

Foreign on my tongue,
As my voice often sounds to my ears
When I laugh with you.