Christmas morning
and we got drunk on $3 red wine
given to me
entirely for free
from the creepy guy
who sits downstairs
with absolutely nothing on
underneath his trenchcoat

it was ******* freezing outside,
and I cried just a little bit
when you told me
we were out of butter.

With no bra
and a pair of XL red sweatpants
I went to the bodega on the corner
where the old man with too many fingers
never gives me the right change.

And that day I cried in my room
over what Christmas had become for me
and now I cry for that ****** apartment
four blocks from the G train
in the middle of Brooklyn, New York
and the fridge that never had
what we were looking for.