π–šπ–“π–Œπ–”π–‰π–‘π–ž π–•π–—π–†π–žπ–Šπ–—π–˜

Sofia Hoefig

another casual, blood curdling surrealist nightmare

after falling asleep, airpods in -

listening to youtube subliminals

pinched myself awake eight times

i am twenty four years old and no longer dependent on antipsychotics

and yet i still struggle to know when something is real

or if a conversation was really had

i think god is punishing me for praying that i win the lottery before bed

𝖆 π–‘π–Žπ–˜π–™ 𝖔𝖋 π–™π–π–Žπ–“π–Œπ–˜ π–†π–˜ π–Ž 𝖋𝖆𝖑𝖑 π–†π–˜π–‘π–Šπ–Šπ–•

Sofia Hoefig

back of my late grandmother’s hands

every line on my forehead

i cannot stop frowning before bed

the botox appointment i need to make

the sound of the coke zero cracking and popping in the can next to me

π–”π–‰π–Š 𝖙𝖔 π–™π–π–Š π–†π–šπ–™π–Žπ–˜π–™π–Žπ–ˆ π–Œπ–Žπ–—π–‘π–˜ π–œπ–π–” 𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖐 π–‘π–Žπ–π–Š π–ˆπ–”π–šπ–—π–™π–“π–Šπ–ž π–‘π–”π–›π–Š

Sofia Hoefig

dark roots outgrown

on uneven toned hair

shades of blonde in yellow,

white

purple

swollen lipped and sullen eyed

all of your doll parts.

your lipstick bleeds across your whole face

we all know you are drunk

you cannot mask it

could you ever mask it?

π–Ž π–œπ–Žπ–˜π– π–’π–ž π–•π–˜π–žπ–ˆπ–π–Žπ–†π–™π–—π–Žπ–˜π–™

Sofia Hoefig

i wish my psychiatrist

was more like a mother

that i could lay on the couch

or across her lap

be listened to attentively

all while having my hair brushed

but instead

we will sit six feet apart

sinking into two large arm chairs

a table in between us

today she prescribed me vyvanse

my prozac stays at thirty milligrams

I will go home and take forty

i will see her again in three months

maybe two

maybe six

π–™π–π–—π–Šπ–Š π–‰π–†π–žπ–˜

Sofia Hoefig

we fill the dogs pool and dip our toes in

you serve me a barbecue in my back garden

we do coke together in my sitting room until dawn

all in three days

π–•π–—π–Šπ–ž

Sofia Hoefig

i cannot make my anger beautiful

or my pain sweet.

i refuse to make this easier to swallow.

i am not yours to consume.

 
 

sofia hΓΆfig is an irish poet in her twenties

a believer in the beauty of words
and that poetry can be anywhere - 

most likely in your private and inebriated thoughts
left sitting in the depths of your notes app, 

edited and rewritten a hundred times 

@g0regrrrl