i stand on the bar, glass in my hand doing little to keep the sweet liquid in it
"this one's for me!" and they all cheer.
and in that moment they're all rooting for me,
they want me to fulfill my dreams, reach all my goals, be happy.
finally.
and this one is for me.
the me dancing with strangers, more alone than ever
the me dying on the cold bathroom tile (i found her hairtie in the back of a drawer)
the me screaming at everything i love, begging it not to love me back.
this one is for me.
when i graduated high school
when my mother uttered the elusive "i'm proud of you"
when i finally, finally stopped trying to **** myself
this one's for me!
when i stood after dying in the bathroom
when i saw the cuts on my legs and i wasn't scared
when i said "i love you" to a dancing stranger and i meant it. i still do.
this one is for myself, and the wet, sticky bar beneath me agrees.