And what is there to do, but douse myself with more alcohol?
I don’t know how else to rouse these ashes within me.
People scream “shots!”, over and over
Until I’m crawling around, looking for bullets.
I spilt my dignity somewhere along with my fourteenth tequila;
I’d look for it, but I think I’ve spent too long on my knees tonight already.
People whisper (not so quietly)
“She’s that girl”, as if they’ve never been here,
As if they’ve never had a night of wanting to forget what it means to exist,
Of wanting to smother their feelings with a plastic bag,
Of wanting to rend their nerve endings.
They think between these sweaty bodies I can’t hear them-
I wish I couldn’t.
I see men eyeing my chest, and I pull down my top a little lower.
His hands run up my legs,
I know somewhere deep down that his fingers are too far
But I don’t stop him-
It’s been a while since someone has noticed the shape of my waist.
I give a smile so sweet he wonders how my teeth have not yet decayed;
The air is hot with steamy breaths
And I iron lipstick stains onto his collar.
3AM, my mother thinks I am fast asleep in bed,
But I am still stumbling down highways, wondering how I came to be so
There is only so much time left
Before these lips forget how to smile, forget how to kiss again,
And I am so afraid of having to peel off these sticky clothes,
For this pulsing in my ears to stop, to have to hear my thoughts again,
And oh no I think I can already feel faint stings of regret;
Sobriety is so cold, so silent.
Maybe if I run fast enough, I can still break free from this skin that imprisons me,
Because from where I’m placed, this street doesn’t appear to ever end.
So I tell myself,
Run and run, baby don’t you dare stop,
And I shout to the wind that grapples for my hair-
Try and catch me now.