Waking up used to be so hard
You no longer by my side
The light hurt my eyes
Disappointed in the fact that I didn’t die in my sleep.
Haven’t drank water in days
Hurt to move
Not wanting to go to work
“I’m a ******* mess” I whisper into my pillow
My voice cracked from dehydration
Thinking of what excuse I can use today to call in sick.
Paint on a fake smile and a fake laugh
Eating tears for breakfast, lunch, and dinner
Smoking cigarettes to suppress my appetite
“Have you lost weight?” My boss asks, concerned.
“Hard to eat when you’re divorced...” I smile and say in a sarcastic tone.
No one gets my humor here in this new city. It’s hard to be funny.
I remember when you laughed at everything I said.
When you did, I wouldn’t feel so **** useless
But now I laugh alone and then cry at the fact that I don’t have you anymore.
Someone I thought would always be my best friend.
I dont recognize the girl in the mirror.
She looks older, more wrinkles
Pale skin and chapped lips
Grown roots and bones.
I remember when I used to try and care about myself.
I begin to wonder if I’ll ever know what it feels like to be “together” again.
Was I ever?

My best friend told me divorce is like death
You mourn the same, mourn the relationship that has died.
That makes sense, I think.
Because the day you moved out,
You left all of your jackets hanging in the closet
You didn’t care enough to pack them
So, in I walked and hugged them all in a tight embrace
And inhaled the smell you left behind
My tears soaked the dense fabric as I fell to the floor
I cried so hard I think the neighbors below us, I mean me, complained
I tossed all your jackets in the air and let them land on my cold skinny body.

And I wept.
And I wept.
And I wept.
And I slept.



“Ashley, can you send me my jackets?”


I. Threw. Your. *******. Jackets. In. The. Trash.