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mistake two: the smiles.
(it felt like he loved me and that's all i needed)

when i allowed myself to memorize the slight glisten of his eyes, and see that same refraction of light reflecting in the mirror. the pillow fluff had spilled all over the floor, intertwined with the golden strands of his hair. the way he bared his teeth to world as he smiled as if biting it in the ass for letting him live through everything he has. we weren't under the pillow fort we had just constructed, instead behind the couch we had used as pillars. i'm stuck. stuck in between the wall and the brown leather couch.

i think my heart is stuck too. maybe some shards are stuck between your teeth, maybe i left some beneath your tongue. maybe it's stuck between your vocal chords. maybe that's why your laughter sounds so choked when you're trying to cover up the sounds of your drunk mother and an even more drunk man upstairs.
when you opened your mouth and smiled at me, i realized maybe you didn't have to be drunk to love me. i saw your heart in the back of your throat and wondered if you'd ever speak it.

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