My Poison Poem by Tina MacAdam

A glass, half full, half empty, whatever way you choose to look at it is still just a glass that I will soon be refilling with poison this weekend to escape the everyday, the normal, to mask this and that from everything and everyone. To subdue thoughts and feelings for a little bit, a temporary fix of sorts, to wash away the things I wish to forget, even if only for a short while. The glass will eventually be empty, but only until the poison flows again from the bottle, poured by my hand, fueled by a longing to forget, to not have to worry about it all, for a mere moment.