I like to drink room temperature water
From that old,
Orange,
Plastic bottle
That is printed with the name
Of the university
That holds my future.
The best part is,
I haven't washed it in weeks.
I trace my lips along
The stale chapstick stains
That outline the orange rim,
And I enjoy
The fact
That my body accepts
This room temperature water
More readily
Than cold.
It slips down my silky,
Aching throat
With ease.
How efficient.
How reassuring.
How fast it pushes out
The poison
That I had chosen to place
In my large intestine
The night before.
I adore this old,
Orange,
Plastic bottle.
And I love room temperature water.
So I drink it as if
It will heal
All that ails me.
YOU ARE READING
A Collection of Thoughts
PoetryA collection of mostly free verse poems and short stories. Sometimes it is nice to simply clear your head. *Trigger warnings: descriptions of disturbing themes such as: body horror, death, interactions with the uncanny, topics in biology, and suici...
