Day 8

You know, forget the nausea.

      Forget those jittery,

over-caffeinated   /  under-rested

tremors.  Forget

                        the detox sweat

                                             that makes me

        smell like a dying goat’s ass.

What kills me

      is not knowing.

          What to do,

       what comes next,

 where I’ll be tomorrow.

I miss the hangovers.

There, I said it.

I miss waking up with

       that swaying headache, cloudy

with a chance of

      puking in the shower.

Waking up sober

doesn’t compare to that first breath

       when I leave the steamed up bathroom,

   when I know everything’s out of my system.

  The air tastes

 that much cleaner

after I’ve put my liver

through the wringer.

                                                            Of course

I don’t like being hungover,

but it makes more sense than

                                      the vague grogginess

     I’m wading through right now.

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