morning after
i am the lie you tell yourself when you look in the mirror. i am the hollow feeling at the base of your throat when you swallow. i am the dirty dishes and the unmade bed you left behind. i am the scent you are scared clings to the sheets. i am the dream that you can’t remember when you wake up but lingers in your mind all throughout the day. i am your unanswered phone, the ignored blinking message light in the dark room. i am the sentence that was erased and rewritten with another name. i am the lingering sadness that has no explanation, the staring out into a gray morning sky with an unnamed longing. i am the lips you imagine on yours. i am the guilt that eats away at you. i am the thing that will fade over time, but always leave a small scar on the back of your knee. i am your regret and your heartbreak and your moment of inhibition. i am all the things you cannot say or put into words. i am your lie, only yours, and nobody elses.
