It was Thursday.
Staring at a snuff moon.
In a pink morning sky.




One of those mornings where all you can do is tangle yourself in sheets.
Hoping that the unopened letters in the trash will mean something more to someone else.




Because giving up on something that should have been gone long ago.
Is better than holding onto a burned out constellation.




& I thought about it last night.
Think about it often.




How to throw my words against a brick wall just to see how many combinations of bullshit I can actually get.
Just to see how fucking wrong you were about everything.




& I overanalyze it often when I’m trying to wrap my mind around the holes in my ceiling.
Shoving down lily whites to ease the ache of a wandering soul.




I’m careful now.
Not to step in the cracks.
Because I swear if my heart breaks any more.



That every inch of me will shatter.




Like the bottle that night.
That you threw against the mirror.
Just to prove you hated yourself for everything.






You never proved anything to me.






I only saw myself broken in the fragile shards.








Pricking my fingers. Stringing a soul back together with a needle & thread.










I tried so hard.
So hard.



Just to mend everything you broke.



But.



I could never get used to the feeling.
Of pricking needles in my skin just to stitch the alphabet back together.



& I hate you calling.
With drunken I love you’s and overused promises.



When I’m still trying to remember everything you said the night before.
Vomiting up every sentence from the past just to try to make out a future.



& I go blank after a while.
Drowning the words of my thoughts.



Just to sleep away the italic words you left me on the cigarette.




& I try babe.
To pull myself together in my dreams.









Just so you don’t have to deal with a mess in the morning.

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