i tasted still water last week.

a poem about the times i self-sabotaged just to feel something.

Photo by YesMore Content on Unsplash

i tasted still water last week

and it was stale — calm

but not for me.

the only liquid

that travels down

my throat with ease

scalds pharynx with ardor.

if its trail

does not hurt,

i do not understand

how to swallow.