by Amy-Jean Muller
TW: Addiction
When you asked if I
remembered the black ink
from all the writing
you stayed up
all night to scribe on those pink walls
next to those empty bottles
and those
empty promises
I say
I do
wondering if it’s nostalgia
or your way to reminisce.
But then you show me your newfound sobriety
written with marks counting the days
you have gained
from all those days you had
lost.
I read your
Serenity
on paper
that’s white
and not pink.
And It makes we wonder when I lie to you in the mirror
If I should suggest you start drinking again.
Amy-Jean Muller is an artist, writer and poet from South Africa who lives and works in London. Both her art and writing explore culture, memory, mental health, identity, and sexuality. She has exhibited her art in South Africa and London. Her writing can be found in various publications and is a regular contributor for Versification and The Daily Drunk. She also writes transgressive fiction and is currently completing her first novel. amyjeanmuller.com Twitter: @muller_aj
Emerge Literary Journal 