we tried so hard. we can sincerely say we gave it our best shot- we never threw away our cocked pistols. you held my hair when i threw up, i screamed and threw the knives out the window when the bags under your eyes were a little too defined. you shoved me off the bed in flashbacks and kissed my collar to amend it, i shut you out when my lungs are keeping air out, i buy us cheap wine and chinese takeaway to make up for the instability.
the cheap wine is probably a metaphor- the red marks littering my neck (and the one on my chest that you didn't mean to cause), the fast slip of liquid where you swallow where one of us falls again, how we keep drinking and drinking until the bottle runs out but we buy one another's affection and keep at it, because maybe someday we'll find a faulty bottle with no alcohol content and we won't fall apart.
our wine glasses are made out of plastic- but the bottle is glass.
x
this is bad but idk
, s
YOU ARE READING
thoughts ≠ sx
Poetrysomething in between a rant book and a book for a girl to ramble in. [ @clairescovers ]
