Melancholy creeps down my back,
An old friend ready to remind me of my short comings.
On those days when feeling like I’m not enough,
Is not enough. I feel the anger bidding me to have a laugh with him,
leaving the bitter taste of guilt in my mouth once I’ve spoken my truth.
No matter how much I yell and cry,
I end up with that sour laugh at the edge of my tongue. I want to rip out
the parts of me that makes me unpretty. The parts of me that felt like water when
He drank from me that night and his thirst made me fluid.
A week later, he had a new girlfriend. I felt like whiskey.
Liquor kills you quicker. I am made of fury and those hideous parts of me,
remind me how hard it is to love ugly.
In the end, the sadness loves me like no other, cradles me like a mother,
And whispers sweet nothings in the dark.