Bloody seasons on west coast weekends are reasons to press rewind to escape and get out of my mind. Headspace costs more than I’m willing to pay for blood, thoughts, and Valentine’s day cards only to catch you in someone else’s bed. I’ve spent my breath on sucking up to what you think I should be before you left. I’d pay you no mind. A knife sharpened to a broken heart plunged the last of my self-esteem; pooling the blood of mending stitches with the nursing of her lips, she revives me in the backseat of a stolen car.
(© 2022 AC)