Dosage
Lips on mug eyes on lips
those thin, chapped crescents
curled upwards towards coffee colored stars.
Look my way. Cheeks flush and I am wanting
more sugar and medication.
If only pills were cherry flavored.
Glide down throat, stifle unnerving want.
What do we call one night stands
at 2:34 pm in a café bathroom?
We have no future. Just high heels,
toilet seats, crammed stalls and running
thoughts. Wash off my lipstick, red poison.
I hope he smells you on me.
Mocha latte and burnt caramel.
Maybe he’ll realize I’m unstable. I need
more sugar. Turn this charcoal flavor sweet.
I can’t help it. Legs cross, stomach burns.
Me, you, shared saliva. He’ll taste you
on my skin. It happened again.
Tears masking memory
hands gripping thighs. You meant nothing.
He’ll want me to go to the doctor.
I’ll let another pretty pink pill
play on my tongue.
YOU ARE READING
Manic - A Book of Poetry
PoetryAn ever-growing collection of poetry from the racing thoughts of a twenty one year old female.
