My back– it’s bending out of place and I don’t know how to fix it
My eyes– they’re sorry for all the things that they had to see too young
My nose– is cracked and burnt but still recovering from a problem I have no more
My lungs– you’re intoxicated with smoke and you might be for most of your life, but please keep working I can’t kick this addiction
My veins– I’ve always envied your importance; your destined job and the way you’re so visible on my pale skin
My legs– I’m apologetic to you for almost losing you. I know the crash was my fault and you weren’t suppose to make it... But you did
My arms– I often snap rubber bands against you, and dig blades across when I’m low, I’m sorry for that and I’m over that; you’re safe from me again
My cheeks– the outside you’re rosy and beautifully red;but on the inside you’re chewed up and smoke scented; you taught me looks can be decieving
My liver– I’m sorry that you could be failing, I’m sorry I’ve failed you, some days vodka just tastes better than my dreams

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Vic
almost 5 years

Sad, but beautifully expressed...

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Vic Sarana Conradie
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