She washed away the stale taste of alcohol
with toothpaste and mouthwash.
She smothered her lips with lip balm
and wore scarfs “for the cold”
with makeup to conceal her eyebags.
But it was just that: cover up.
The memories couldn’t be hidden;
her mind whirled with their dancing,
her body clung to his scent of cigarettes,
their conversations followed her.
Her eyes drooped and, behind them,
the scenes were replayed.
And no toothpaste, mouthwash,
lip balm, scarves or make up
could take those away.
162 Days Left
The balcony gave view to a sea of people. Their swaying movements filtered through the crowd, the music pounding through their bodies as they tried to keep up. There was the occasional hand-raising, although most immediately put them back down. Yet, those that did remain with their hands raised over their heads were only filming, capturing these moments of excitement for another time. Although, with all their attention on filming, they weren’t having a good time.
181 Days Left
The friend of a friend
of an upperclassmen
-who knows one of my
best friend from high school-
invited me to a
dinner that began
twenty minutes ago.
Nobody texted me to ask
whether or not I could make it.
Now I am at home.
At least it’s by choice,
right?
220 Days Left
I’d build a home with you.
Would you be willing to accept it?
Could you live with me too?
That’s what I thought yesterday
before I proposed. I awaited a cue.
None came.
But I did it, even without a clue.
So when she said no I knew
our love had not been true.
What had happened?
Who knew?
Why me?
Why not you?
244 Days Left
I remained seated. In between the passed-out girl and the boy who lost his voice. He was looking at his phone. All of them waiting for their friends, who had decided to take off on a romantic couple trip to the bedroom. Seated, she finally understood what it meant to be surrounded by people but be completely alone.
Writer's 365 Day Challenge 