split ends fall like fingers to the floor
(tiles like dirty teeth)
doubled over
we ignore
the ground we walk on
crushed with
boots sandals sneakers heels
(heel to toe: hard)
bare feet, naked
truth
skips these floors
but tattoos the walls
we make our proclamations permanent
(repainted every year-
we are afraid
to learn from our mistakes-
and i didn't really love him.)
hide reason
under eyelids infrared
in our designated darkness
(we don't talk in person anymore-
and keep our reasons to ourselves.)
soles
blistering cold
tiles
we come here
(sick sob sex)
and wash our hands
over and over
again
because someone else is in our stall.