it’s 3 am and they smell like my dad did in 2011 and 2012 and every day from then on
i didn’t know getting older meant living with everyone else’s fuckups
i didn’t know getting older meant silencing myself in the presence of my peers in an attempt to disintegrate into dust because what the ****?? how do you talk to anyone new when you’re the only sober one

break my collar bones again
on the days i find it hard to just exist, i have friends who will squeeze my ankles and my knees and anchor me down to a planet i’m not sure i was ever meant for
sorry i’ve never quite been able to articulate what it means for me to have been around the sun 23 times but **** i wasn’t supposed to make it this far

this winter is chewing me up and spitting me out in the way only cold weather can

i miss late night phone calls most when i remember i’m not the one who makes them anymore

i would just like to say, from the absolute bottom of my heart,

****

the nonexistent satisfaction of what i’ve come to know as past tense
i’m still feeling your handwriting tracing my collarbones and cheeks and the way tears seemed to float off my face and into the pockets of your jeans

i sunk the ship and i burned the house down
sing me to sleep or shake me awake
you want honesty?
you’re looking in the wrong mirror, honey
leave a message after the beep

please for the love of god don’t let her in your bedroom and the kitchen floor and where your mom saw us share moments we would have loved to have not kept secret