Chelsea Sweeney
Drinking, infatuation
Drinking, infatuation
Bombay
Encased in words
That is who you are
Wearing that cloak of unfinished sentences
It’s quarter to one and you shiver
Drinking Bombay alone in a closet
Underneath all your broken board games
I close my eyes so I can’t see you
Beating your palms against a dirty wall
Scratching phrases on its surface
Like memories so you can’t forget
You are full of words but ask no questions
Tasting blood because you bit your fist
Ten seconds ago
As you stuffed it into your mouth to stop from screaming
My name
Again and again, a muffled cry
I turn away, a silent profile, and yet
I see you
But not for what you are or what you were.