Thoughtless

I thought.
Please dont throw up.
I cant get out what I pushed in.
I cant see my self in pieces on the floor,
with a toilet bowl cradling my chin.

I thought.
I could not have danced.
Feet should not have their own say.
They will cross you, then leave you without shoes.
Or soles.

I thought.
I could drink myself away.
To you.
with moves I do not have or hold.
Not with an audiance, never with a stranger,
always with the promise I just might not recognize myself.

I thought.
How unbelievably embaressing.
But it was planned.
Chugging back vodka laced with sugared cranberries.
It was so unbelievably believable.
This time.

I did not think.