He asked to kiss me last night
I wish I could tell you I told him no
But his lips were soft, he knew just what to do
At least enough to make me think about it the next day
I thought about how he moaned under my touch
How his hair felt between my fingers
How he kept asking for more
How it wasn’t in any way you
And how much I missed you in that moment

Brown bottles filled with hops
It seems to be the only physical evidence left
Eleven sit on my bedside table
Ten you finished, one I couldn't, and one unopened
The smell of you is gone from my clothes
Gone from the blanket I hope kept you warm
I still feel your hand on my thigh
Your deep laugh vibrating against my chest
Your hair between my fingers
For now the only thing I can hold between my hands
Is a beer bottle gone stale
But every time I look down at my cold hands
I remember how warm they felt holding you

My skin and bones have seen better days,
but I am not asking for your sympathy.
I block out the noise, still aware of the whispers.
Eyebrows creased like my stretch marks,
I want to forget what it's like to have a body.
Instead, see me for my spine
because although it is bent,
it is not broken.
It's just another thing to mend.
Cracked, twisted, and stepped on.
Justifying my hate with forgiveness,
my mirror is used to the repitition.
Finding solace in substances,
I was beautiful before the world told me different.
If only I would've seen that
before the harm was dealt.
Oh, to be faceless
in a room of familiar faces.

If only I would've known
exactly what would happen,
and how it wasn't just
something to dismiss.
I wish I would've known
I was witnessing
a slow, catastrophic death.

Street lights smeared like lipstick stains,
Driving down memory lanes that don't feel the same.
We feel like we're living on borrowed time,
Trying to find a timing that will never be right.
"Take it day by day."
I'm not sure I have that long.

He said he likes my clothes
And how they smell like smoke
It reminds him of someone he knew long ago