Poison: budlite
My stomachs in my throat and I'm about to throw up onto a squeaky clean porcelain bathroom floor.
The mirror mocks me,
teasing me with ratty blonde curls and tear streaked cheeks.
I barf glitter and years of regret onto tiles that echo your name into my ears, sneakily tearing my heart into pieces you can trap within fingertips.
Wiping my mouth ungracefully I pick myself up, glaring at the broken girl presented for me before I sneak out the tiny window into winter air.
Because people like me do not belong with someone like you.
s.d