The last time we talked I laughed so hard I spilled
Raspberry Jam all over my white dress shirt.
Now, dry cleaned and pressed, hangs
In the darkest corner of my wardrobe.
The third button down, missing.
Her poppy red lipstick stained on the left collar,
and my heart still, untouched and silently
left at the end of my sleeves, it hangs abandoned
in my dark chest
filled of old and worn rags.
the same color that she painted her nails
at 3 am one autumn morning.
Drinking Plum wine
and singing Kurt Cobain.
On the second verse she pulled me close and kissed me,
The taste of wine on her stained my teeth blue.