She is dressed like an unmarked bottle of tequila Smuggled and homemade
There's some dirt on your cheek Leave it there Out here looks good on you
There is the crunch and scrape of dirt in the threading little pebbles against my teeth
I spit them out onto a smooth portion of cement Pray that in the blurr I can read divinity in the way the dirt falls
Another swig and I am heart heavy Like scrap metal and old houses like fat sacks of glowing mercy
She smiles like a pipedream of twisted shining copper
She speaks in head spin This is what it feels like when god talks to you without killing you
She says You are not in the business of feeling sorry for yourself
Name the year
This is the year of the shedding of weight The year of the cutting in half The year of shaking the dust From the fragile places Wiping the dirt from the threading even if you have to use your own mouth so you can finally seal yourself without worrying if it will hurt this time
The year of hotmess And young love The year of leaving This is the year Not where everything is lost But a new lightness is gained In the way you can walk away
So pull your heart out from the rubble of the past
This is the year of being charming The year of fist fights and no regrets The year where you finally understand what it means to be honest