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withdrawal - james roach

Writer's picture: theperiwinklepelictheperiwinklepelic


Maybe a quiet sliver to the wrist,

or a murder of pills 

crowing from the bottle. 

This is a gunless house

so no exit wound

or bullet found stuck 

in drywall, 

extracted carefully

with the sharp beak of tweezers

by an expert in 

collateral damage. 

A missed dose of 

Effexor, 

whose generic name is 

within 24-48 hours, 

your brain will go to war

against you. 

Jet engines and cannonballs 

making it difficult to ignore

the certainty of my own voice. 

I shook my head

so the noise

could drip out of my ears,

like after going swimming

with bullies 

and surviving. 




James Roach (they/he) is a queer, trans, sober poet most creative between the hours of up-too-late and is it even worth going to bed? He currently lives in St. Louis.

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