i lost sight in the sun.

i bet they look at my photographs & wish they lived my life,
while i am simultaneously looking at theirs & wishing i could do the same.

i am alone in a bookstore corner, scanning pages with eyes of cynicism.
you swear that if you saw me, i would no longer be alone,
yet here i sit for another day.
i choose written words over phone calls & road trips.
i am notorious.
say something, do another.
i swear i'm sober, then take another sip.
adventure might free me of this,
but nothing will ever kill it.
no one ever gives out invitations to a dance party.



32 days clean & i am shrinking.