I.

I am in a hotel bathroom and I drink vodka from a bottle in my purse.
My lipstick is blood-red. I will kiss you, later, and leave traces of myself like a crime scene.
When I return you do not smell the alcohol.
You are in black and white and I am a splash of color. I drink champagne.
The bubbles rise in my throat like words I do not say. I smile through closed teeth.
Upstairs in bed beside you I watch you sleep.
My hands are bloody. I wish I was real.

II.

I sing myself a lullaby and walk close-eyed into the forest. Needles sting my bare feet.
The moon is bright and silver and my eyes are still closed.
Somewhere you turn over in your sleep. Who sang your lullaby?
I sit down beside an oak tree and try to breathe but my lungs are stone.

III.

I push on the gas until my feet scrape the pavement and inhale burning rubber and smoke.
Lights flash beside me until I cannot tell which color they are.
You smile at me from the passenger seat. I hit the brakes.
The scream is alive in my chest, like an animal clawing its way to freedom.
When the car stops spinning you are gone and my hands are white-knuckled on the steering wheel.

IV.

Little white pills spill on a tabletop. I wash them down with cheap liquor burning in my throat.
The bass hammers in my feet and jerks me from side to side, my body swaying in the rush.
You stand in the middle of the dance floor, silent, a halo of red light around you.
There is a sea of bodies between us. I never learnt to swim.
Strobe lights pulse around me until I am submerged.
I take a breath and my mouth fills with voices that aren’t mine.

V.

I smear dirt on my face and cover it in makeup. I practice my smile like a poem.
Will you take me to prom now?

VI.

Your body is stone-grey in the fading light, a living statue.
I put my hands on you and you dissipate like smoke. Only your eyes linger.
I stare into them until I feel like I am blind.
When I try to paint you all my colors dry and crack, a pavement of wasted beauty.

VII.

I reach for you across the abyss but then I am falling.
I pull my shattered bones together and the curtains shut.
Close your eyes.
Look away.