Tonight I'll wear
the black dress that never left my closet
hear it rip when the
backs of my thighs meet the cold piano bench
my stiff fingers will scratch the keys,
eliciting aching ivory groans
I'll wear it in the shower and shiver
as icy water skims my skin
I'll press our polaroids to my tongue
and chew you up
you'll stick to the roof
of my mouth when I swallow
and my skin will turn angry red
because my body always knew
what a bad idea you were.
I'll wear my youth like a medallion
hanging where my heart should be
and soon my red eyes will
forget what it feels like to blink.
The hairs on my arms will
stand on end as my
fingernails scrape the tile on my bathroom floor
tracing the lines of old poems I burned
in your fire.
I'll bite my cracked lips, just to
remember what regret tastes like
and with hot blood fresh on my tongue,
I'll stumble to your empty house
drag my bare feet in your driveway and
silently beg you to ask me how I am.
I'll shatter your bedroom window and
almost glimpse you through the haze and
when my knees buckle I'll
collapse where your bed used to be
and for a split second
I'll think it was you beneath the sheets.
Aren't I beautiful, darling?
I wore this dress for you