the bruises on my legs mark the lies of you from a past when all I did was bleed on your bed sheets and whine about the aesthetics of any place that didn't feel like home, that didn't feel like you. but I digress. but I digress.

rinsed my mind clean of the words that caved in on me with the whiskey on your breath.

i rubbed salt on my lips and drank nothing but whiskey for seventeen hours while cleaning to help me forget you but you it only numbed me further into the idea of you.

you took my grace and slid it between your bed sheets, the next day, i stayed comatose in my room until the sun hid itself, i hummed silly rhymes and watched them waft away, the following day, i dropped everything i tried to hold, my hands didn't shake like they usually do, they stood still and uncertain. kind of like you, clearly, oh so clearly of you and me

hell is dreaming about you, and waking up in someone else's bed