be sure to stare at my ass—
no, right now.
when i’ve had enough whiskey that
i can feel the earth spin beneath us,
when my head is full
of how deeply you cut
with those words that prove
my name has no place in your heart.
wait until i’m falling up the stairs,
until i’m crawling from the room,
until i’m crying in the bathroom,
and then be sure to tell everyone
how you’d kiss me,
but never talk—
never ever talk
to me because then
i might mistake you.