He is a red wine headache-
vague memories of a night meant
to go better and morning’s regret.
Feeling strangely out of place
dissheveled and full of that
suddenly all-too frequent
dissapointment in my actions
or myself.

He is that aching in my temples-
the light that hurts my eyes-
the insistant wobbly feeling in
my belly telling me I should have
given him up ten bottles or
a year ago.

The asprin is a bandaid
And the tea I cuddle in
my hands like a lifesaver
is folk remedy passed down
woman-to-woman for generations
like maybe if we put the kettle on
it can cure all
even
make the pain go away
but at the end of the day
it is a choice I make to
take him off the shelf again
and drink deep
a habit I am allowing myself
to keep
despite the repercussions.

“hangover”- 9-16-13- jessicagadziala

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