a broken black stiletto
j cole blaring to an empty crowd
one fur coat, two broken mirrors, and
forty-seven bottle caps
whispers of the best friends
who are no longer best friends
a shot-ski seeking the lips of lonely teenagers
turtle-murdering mcdonald’s straws
inappropriate doodles lining the
side jamb of the bedroom door
a monogramed shot glass
echoes of tear-filled phone calls
rolled up dollar bills next to a pile of
fun-dip dust
a shattered phone with an “nhs” case
the lingering stench of vodka and cigarettes
six missed calls from mom
the air-blown circulation of glitter
a fake id with “delaware” spelled wrong
an empty bottle of cheerwine spinning
on the table
crystal light lemonade wrappers
other wrappers
unidentifiable stains on the macramé rug
the sour taste of unbrushed teeth
a “best teacher ever” mug filled with
something green
one thick golden hoop missing her twin
questionable consent
billions of dust particles in the morning sun
a path of pillows from the couch to the fridge
because the floor is lava
a voicemail saying he’s sorry
a red lace bra hanging from the
mounted deer head
a long-forgotten ping pong ball
protected by a shield of dust
an ordinary but unwelcome empty space
that feels like waking up alone
when someone is supposed to be there
