A. This year I will no longer be tangled top sheets,
soiled comforters, or stained mattresses.
My blood runs clear and the extra year made me a little harder to ****. I started kissing boys on corners who had girlfriends, being someone we would never imagine of me and I bet you never expected ***** to run through these sober veins, couldn't handle me after four shots and you are inebriated by the alcohol seeping from my pores.
B. I started the year off kissing a bottle, not you
and
you ruined it, left me behind, a newborn still unsure how to walk unstable and unbalanced on tender feet.
you ruined it, left me to fend for myself among the wolves of the world,
C. It took me 907 days to learn how to love you in the way you needed it, this gestation was the slow decline of everything that defined me.
No one ever told me that each person needs love molded to them
so on the 909th day when you left, i had just perfected the sculpture, didn't have time to show you before you rushed in, knocked it on the floor and were gone
D. that is how we ended, shattered splinters of clay, scattering mosaic beautiful on the floor.
tied tongues and upset stomachs from too much alcohol and too little sleep
E. this is how we ended, strangers lips and foreign bed sheets
we went out like a poem if only I could find the right words
