i am hopelessly in love with memories
of adoring you and your strawberries

we would lie in your single bed you had since you were seven
promising to never love sober again

while you ate a strawberry shortcake of a porcelain plate
dressed up sultry to be sick till you faint

my cheeks rosey, sweetened with drops of nicotine
admiring you while you decorate your own guillotine

you told me if you’re sick the baby will be sick
i didn’t understand it, till i was throwing up strawberries in the sink