Heather Bee
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Dual Life

Bubbles surface to the top of each glass surrounding me. I lick my lips in a longing effort to remember the taste. Each consequence runs through my mind as I role play relapse behind my eyes.

Sleep deprivation dims my eyes and makes me see double. With a nearly empty cigarette pack, I grab my keys and drive home drunk on my thoughts.

These cold winter nights resemble my soul. The evil being who resides in my heart and rears its ugly face in the lonely hours of the night. It recovers from the depths to show me the disgust I have for myself. Chilled to the bone, in this empty car, I encounter moments when my sole purpose is to harm you.

Turn signals and rumble strips guide the car where it needs to be. I stare into the rear view mirror and laugh at my body's discomfort.

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