Another day, early morning
freshly scrubbed
put on lips
just a little too thick
I don't give a fuck
The moisture is locked, softening
and beautiful.
Besides, maybe he'll notice me
on the train, on the way to work
at work, across the counter, at lunch
eating
reapplying
He put on lips
Just a little too thick
But of course
It's a picture, honey
and a picture is forever.
Maybe he'll look back
at this yearbook
and see these lips
and remember to call me
on Valentine's Day
Mamma don't need to know yet
until he loves me.
Now it's been three weeks.
No one really knows you
or what you wanted
or what happened
oh, 19
took me 45 minutes to tell her
but how could she not know?
and you never had the chance
all they see is lips
not a face or life.
And all I can see in the faces
on the train, on the street
in Luke & Leroy's, on Adam4Adam
is your murderer.
Someone I wanted
who maybe wanted you
someone who has broken my heart.
mine too.
thank you for continuing to make this an issue.
love you.
My head was in one space until the last stanza. Heavy. You really should write more, sweetie.
Thank you, Donald, thank you—so powerful.
“Someone I wanted who maybe wanted you someone who has broken my heart.”