i'm restless four hours till breakfast and i smell the last of the tonic wasted on her breath instead of her bloodstream i watch my mind fly away still stuck on this pipe dream while a slow sad song plays in the background of my memories i'm weighed in with only make up caked in the cracks and crevices in spite of this and my spitefulness i'm still a ***** and i'm restless out of billions i'm just a dust speck so i'll fall out of my clothes to watch you disrobe and break a sweat the window to your soul is not your eyes it's under your shirt sleeve it's the **** disguised in your bloodstream and i'm screaming there's no honor among thieves you must be dreaming i sit in this space and wait while the butterflies congregate into my heart instead of my stomach where they belong the weightlessness long gone i'm just another twenty-something fatality fighting a war armed with only my shaken sanity and i'm restless
i've learned to love sweaters my second skin i'm not afraid to be seen in the bruises are all gone and the scars don't show through clinging to me without holding me back i've learned to love sweaters not just because of the weather
maybe i'm an acquired taste maybe i'm like an artichoke cupcake maybe you learn to like me maybe you don't maybe i try too hard maybe i don't maybe it's not me this time maybe you only like cupcake maybe you only like artichoke maybe one day there will be someone who likes both
i saw you picking out fruit red apples, i recall. my least favorite. i glance up. that sympathetic, useless smile crosses your face same as all the others, good enough to be picked up but put back on the shelf left for someone else.