your clothes are scattered on your floor.
my eyes glaze over at the thoughts that come.
which of these clothes did he take off of her?
did she lift them off for him?
i know he leaves you feeling fucked.
you told me on the phone he came inside you.
my teeth grind.
eyes water,
lips tremble,
hands shake.
Mary Beth told me to be strong,
"you always take care of us, but this time lick your own wounds."
i'm too proud to say i feel it--
too proud to say i don't find sleep 'til 3 a.m..
all i think of in bed is you undressing
for him.
i take a few hits of everclear,
write some shitty poetry,
and replay your laughter over and over
and over again.