you are
my sunday morning
my lipstick stained coffee mug
bleary-eyed kisses that taste like toothpaste

left, right, you left again.
i lost all desire to be
your/china/doll
your
sixAM/hotelroom/smoke
little bitch,
don’t call me
ring/voicemail/ring/hangup
rinse, repeat.

effloresce
i am full of holes
but there are roots in my ribcage
and flowers burst from my spine
when you touch my skin.​

—————–

Kelsey Schmidt is a 20 year old sentient being who is just trying her best. She is an excessive coffee drinker who enjoys petting other people’s dogs and being cynical. She writes here.