I shake and I sway and I rock. There are centipedes crawling off with my skin. The woman who just walked by walked much too close. The dishes will all break if I attempt to do them and they’ll probably cut me. Now I want to run the blade across my skin and do it myself. The tears come and I dig my teeth into my pen to stop them. They must be stopped or they’ll sting my centipede skin.
I shake and I sway and I rock. My mind is droopy but my eyes are wide and everything they take in terrifies me. My legs run off with themselves and the pills keep piling up but the centipedes continue their march and the woman continues to walk too close and the dishes continue to make my eyes produce wetness. So I take a sip.
I shake and I sway and I sip. Until the sips turn into swigs and the swigs turn into gulps and the gulps turn into the bottom of a bottle.
I stop shaking, I stop swaying, I stop rocking and I stop sipping. For once, I am still.
Tomorrow I will do it all again. I will try to refrain, but I will shake and sway and rock.