I slept alone in a stranger’s bed.
My skin stretched in slits from your knife’s kiss.
Took the bits I’d hidden, and used them as bait.
Two weeks I still can’t see,
blurred by candlelight and early dusk.
Still taste the loss and last words buried on my tongue.
Heal me, Pair-ee.
Teach me about love and cigarettes.
Teach me tricks on moving on.
Bad habits + band aids don’t stop the blood.
Grey skies and weepy clouds.
I never thought I’d be this one.
Silly rabbit, tricks are for kids.