whose name made you drink enough to forget your own?
why are you slurring, stumbling, shivering, shaking,
your mouth a spillage of magenta and fuschia,
hands slung over your best friends as they steady you into a car,
a cab they've called in a flurry of messy text messages and laughs,
joking about how drunk they've gotten to make sure his name
never perforate itself in your mind again.
you thought the two (or eight) shots you down,
in flimsy, rough, swallows of gasoline and heartbreak
will bury him in a box underneath the dirt floor of your mind
but his nomenclature refuse to transform from 'love' to 'stranger'.
he stays, he stays, he stays
unlike his form, his body, his soul,
and in the vagaries of life,
we lose and we lost,
because a girl's love changes,
like the seasons,
and we can heal,
we can break,
but we'll be okay,
once again.