When your lips are on a diet and your eyes are on a
binge,
open and flat,
two-dimensional,
Different.

Distraction from your home,
where you pray to the faceless,
the nameless.
Maybe they'll save you
when he comes.
Maybe they'll make you numb.
Aloof.

Maybe you'll stop feeling.
You'll stop tasting your own bile,
after drinking too much.

Maybe you'll stop feeling cold after he leaves you.
Maybe you'll stop remembering the hugs and the warmth.
Maybe if your teeth are shut tight for just long
enough,
it will all go away.
Or maybe you will always remember.
And your tongue will always taste.
And your hands will always feel cold.