move dust through light

I nod my head, say, Girls are so dirty but I leave my used panties on the floor for days. Have to fish out clumps of my hair from the shower drain, wipe toothpaste from the faucet, clean period blood from my sheets, leave my hair unwashed for a week, sleep in my mascara and eyeliner. I pick at my acne because my hands don’t know how to do anything except destroy. The same boys stay hanging up in my closet, snapshots of their mouths decorating my nightstand the color of bruise. I practice saying I love you into my palm and clench it tight so it can’t escape. Forget it. No one asks if you’re okay. No one wants a real answer. I make myself pretty for boys I don’t even know how to talk to. I take them home. Show them how to use the shower, the coffee pot. Let them undress me in the dark. In the morning I find wedding rings in their pockets.

“what are you doing today”