Rapture

i am forever chasing

the next distraction

your filthy words

cutting through the dark

on my iphone screen

an eyeshadow palette

i shoplifted from

shopper’s drug mart

the song i wrote

at 3am

four new tattoos

in place of self-mutilation

–

my family disowns me

i’m an instigator, they say

intentionally twisting words

getting off on conflict

pushing them away

testing if they’ll come back

until adrenaline gives way

to thick, saccharine shame

–

my rapture ends

when i begin storing sleeping pills

underneath my pillow

when i can’t get through the morning

without a nap

and i can’t get through the afternoon

without a hit

when i’m cemented to my mattress

the weight of takeout

and breaking bad reruns

and my drained bank account

and forty milligrams of fluoxetine

and the same taylor swift album on loop

–

immobilizing 

me

–

you don’t answer my texts anymore

i still wake ritualistically at twilight

only to feel you rotting

like a phantom limb

–

days, weeks, months muddle

into one

endless

suffocating

loop

–

just one more hit

i promise myself.