Apple Juice

One night, cigarette smoke wafts out your ground-floor bedroom

And you really don't know why you're drinking alone

But then, I suppose you do

And the walls stare back

And the television is not loud enough

Back at home, they are having fun

And you are calling the doctors tomorrow, if you can be fucked

And telling them that a knife underneath your pillow

Doesn't seem normal, you see

And this night you don't sleep, and you don't bother with them early

You sleep until maybe five in the afternoon, and wake hungry

With nothing to eat

And one day you're telling someone you don't see a way out

A way to stop, feel, be, see, climb, get out of, you don't see that

But then, one day

You're cooking eggs the way you love them, and pouring extra apple juice

Because you love the taste too much, and it's much too good

And you make a shopping list, and something makes you smile

And you think to yourself

This will suffice, for a while.

For a while, yes.

But it does, like a friend

Like a call on a Friday night when you cannot sleep

Like a hug that buries your head in the shoulder

And you can fucking weep, because you are allowed to, honey

You are burning, deeply

Burning and burning,

But you make a shopping list for next week

Because you'll want to make eggs as you like them

Taste apples that are sweet

And feel that gentle sun, gentle on your cheek.