I get so jealous…
Some people I used to be friends with.
The kiddie psych hospital where I was committed at sixteen.
Rose petal tea isn’t pink.
Figuring it out was painful.
The drawer where I kept my dingy addictions
Pretending it never happened isn’t going as well as expected.
One time I hooked up with the manager of a vape store, and now he gives me free stuff, and it’s kind of embarrassing.
Black as fresh-made coffee.
She smiled and I felt gutted.
You have to listen to “Dead Friend” by Against Me! when you read this poem. Sorry, I don’t make the rules.