the morning after
she pretended vodka was water
all sleep deprived
and out of her mind
she tried to purge herself of regrets
even if it was mixed in
with chunks of last nights dinner
sticking shame-stained fingers
down her throat
she could not quite reach
any semblance of redemption
she was stuck with the potent perfume of bile
for the rest of the day
and she vowed to not touch smirnoff
ever again
昨晚
她欺骗自己
说伏特加只是
变了味的白水
今天
缺乏睡眠的她
在发疯的边缘shang
在胃里寻找
一片后悔药
即便它混合在
昨晚的晚餐里
玷污羞辱的手指
经过自己的唇齿
而够不着
任何转变事实机会
整天
她散发着呕吐浓厚
的香水味
发誓她再也不会
让哪怕一滴
smirnoff
过唇
a poem loosely inspired by true events reflecting on the unforeseeable depth of regret after all is said and done but more so about that unshakable feeling of disgust when you want to throw up but can’t and you’re stuck with the discomfort for the rest of the day
good poetry. i like it. good going Maggy
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Thank you 🙂
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Only regret for 1 day? Oh, how I wish! This is so perfect a description:
“…sticking shame-stained fingers
down her throat
she could not quite reach
any semblance of redemption”
Bravo!
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hahah thanks Susanne!
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Beautiful!
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Reblogged this on creativeanonymous.
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You are very brave to reflect without filter… I love how your words are so raw dipped into your feelings…
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Aw thank you ><
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I wish this didn’t speak to me as closely as it does. Strangely beautiful. I like it.
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Thanks Sydney 🙂
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