“I give myself five days to forget you. On the first day I rust. On the second I wilt. On the third day I sit with friends but I think about your tongue. I clean my room on the fourth day. I clean my body on the fourth day. I try to replace your scent on the fourth day. The fifth day, I adorn myself like the mouth of an inmate. A wedding singer dressed in borrowed gold. The midas of cheap metal. Tinsel in the middle of summer. Crevice glitter, two days after the party. I glow the way unwanted things do, a neon sign that reads: Come, I still taste like someone else’s mouth.” — "Residue" by Warsan Shire (via ruefle)
Posted on: Wed, 10 Jul 2013 03:01:20 +0000
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