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10:00 pm and the streets are empty

the drunken lines I slur float out the windows

and she’s flailing in the back seat

and your eyes are empty
(are you there?)

9:00 am and the honeyed light floats in

suddenly I’m in the wrong room
in the wrong clothes
sheathed in someone else’s memories 

you fill the holes
with the corners of your mouth turned up
and your sweaty palms
playing songs in my hair

2:00 am and it’s white light and white lines everywhere

empty boxes scattered across the counter

burn holes in the carpet,
glass on the patio

the shattered remains of our night
you inform me that there’s more to life

they tell me with their bell voices and their bell jars that I can’t sink any deeper
but how can I not when it’s 12:00 AM and I’ve forgotten who I am?