Forgiveness is a hell of a drug
Addison Kay

Forgiveness is a hell of a drug

I’m too thin so the river runs icy. You pulled me out and set me
on the rock to dry. Then kept swimming. I was astonished, for the first time you
knew I needed something different. To be warm. I’ve been escaping every second
of my whole life. Have you heard this before? At the five-year I’m drinking a shit
beer and my friends and I are determined to be fake drunk enough to be real. I’m
still frozen so you catch my hand in the parking lot because I’m breaking down and
I tell you not to touch me. You’ve got a job in the city and I’ve got a job in the city.
That used to be enough, but Boston is a dreary town where people don’t even know
their neighbors.