Today’s entry comes from Tabitha S., a Seattle-based freelance writer and poet who struggles with sobriety. Of this poem, she says, “The hardest part for me is always dealing with the damage I’ve caused in relationships. When I relapse, it’s generally over that.”

Sorrow Hangs On

Sorrow hangs on me like an old coat,
finds me in different forms–

a Museum of Tears, Bird Graveyard.

I get drunk and go under the needle
for another fuck you tattoo, chop off
my hair and throw it in the trash.

Love doesn’t come with a warranty,
just an expiration date.