“When Life Gives You Lemons, Make Lemonade”--- Dale Carnegie

My eyes are burning

I fumble for the faucet

With my lacerated fingertips

In search for cool comfort

Down splashes the acrid spikes as I scream

Fuck Lemonade

The acid cooks my flesh as white as rind

But the scent of my seared digits

sweet like daisy

The water eventually becomes crisp

as I immerse my face in comfort

Before drying with a bleak blanket

uncovering my blurred vision

With cherry eyes I exchange sugar

for salt

the pitcher of patience

for a blue bruised bottle

I don’t have limes

Lemons will do.