There I was, crouched like a cat with my palms to the concrete, trying to make out my reflection in the gray puddles since the pain was too searing to swallow. In my pocket I had four useless aspirin, one expired credit card, and five and a half nauseating cigarettes. And no water.

Her skin, once gleaming with coppery iridescence, is now riddled with new corrosion. Its sheen was replaced as years passed and She stood as an emblem of American pride, an ever-present reminder of what we hope to stand for. This change in Her skin makes Her no less alluring – Her green hue serves as a testament to all She has endured: harsh weather, the decades gone by, and an indefinite lifetime as an object of attraction. 

More sweetly than you ever have, the bottle of ethanol murmurs my name.
Craven is surrender, yet all the more foolish it is to remain in this hell
So I give in –
Liquid sizzling as it denatures the secrets lodged in my esophagus
The chemical scorching my putrefied abdomen, burning against my spine
Every trace of you now vaporized to a ghost.
My tongue and throat alight in flames and my stomach a graveyard, I return to myself to find close to nothing left
But you are also gone.

But before I can dive deeper into the endless chaos, I see a glimmer in the corner of my eye. Gone is the past. With a closer look, I can see two little green gems engraved in a golden ring, almost like brothers. The perfect ring right in front of me, something I never thought I needed until now. But before I can even check the pricetag, I’m gutted by the fact that this ring is not for me. Not yet at least. The ring is a prize, meant for someone who knows who they are. Knows what they want, where they want to be, and who they want to be with. Someone who knows the horns of life, but still challenges the bull anyways. The person who will own this ring knows how to handle life in the past, present, and future.