you once asked how i would describe the color blue,
i was nineteen and heartbroken, needles aching in my
throat, vodka burning my stomach, small lungs, and
no voice

i said
blue is the first day of January, when the
new year eats at your skin and your entire
soul feels naked and raw – exposed and
hungry for laughter
i said
blue is when you’re making love and you
feel your name lingering against your soul
like an empty song of a boiling red fire
blue is how your mother calls you on the
morning of your brother’s funeral and tells
you that she wishes it was you instead
i said
blue is 3:43 AM on a Thursday morning
where you feel heavy from working and
writing poetry about people who don’t
remember to call even when you asked
blue is hearing your daughter beg you
to stop being so heartless, to let her go,
blue is the itching that seems to come
from under your skin, the kind that makes
you feel insane, the kind you wish would
burn in the deep stomach of thick regret
i said
blue is whispering to God after a car
accident, where pieces of brain and
glass are scattered on the fresh caved
pavement, where you inhale the electric
silence because the screaming is deafening
blue is buying a carton of eggs in the
grocery store and making four different
cakes with it, blue is opening the mail
to find wedding invitations, blue is the
color of your soul when you can’t say
the words “i’m sorry” or “you’re free”
i said
blue is loving someone who
will never love
you

confessions from my alcoholic mother