Sometimes, when consciousness was simply too
painful for our sensitive souls, we would consume
enough vodka, valium and zopiclone to induce
unnatural hibernation. We called it silly self-care
because, although it wasn’t smart, it was necessary
for survival. When we finally awoke from our ignorance
and went outdoors, we discovered that Spring had happened
while we slept. The only time that red and pink ever look
good together is when the cherry blossom trees have erupted
outside the fire station. I wonder what else we missed
while we slept away those finite and unwanted hours of ours.
Later, when we were eating cereal for dinner, we realised that
nobody had missed us, and, most terribly, we hadn’t missed each other.
Originally published by Mausoleum Press (August 2021)
Read the whole issue here.