I have that sick to my stomach feeling.
Sure wish it would go away.
I’m worried about what he’s doing,
who he’s with
as if I have any right to even wonder.
I hate that I still love him.
Something I haven’t even wanted to admit
to myself.

The ground is literally sparkling,
not just
because a light frost
is reflecting off the sun.
I just tip toed into my parents house
with huge pupils and messy hair
wearing someone else’s Halloween shirt
that says, Let’s get smashed.

But at least I wasn’t driving.

I’ll skip the color and just say
that’s it’s nice to have a nice boy
enjoy you.

I am now that girl who
ends up leaving something behind
My shoes, an ear ring, a bra,
and a hoodie.
A half pack of cigarettes and
a Vuse vape pen.
A small amount of ****.
I don’t know when it happened.
After I started drinking more often,
after he left me and I can’t
seem to remember where anything
is anymore.
And after all,
I was left behind too.

I am a Matryoshka doll.
I carry many different versions
of myself around,
each making appearances
now and then.
I don’t even realize when I transform
until I begin to avoid things
to protect whichever stage I’m in.
Right now I am big, good at deflecting and
putting on a smile with
my mascara.
The small one that’s weaker;
scared
is
deep inside.
Safe.