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Two More for What It’s Worth

Condensation on the pint glass, and you looked me in the eyes, so fucking honest. When we first met you thought I was the most interesting person you’d ever encountered. You only wanted my body as a side note. Things change so quickly, even if its only relative. I stuck my chewed, chipped black nails in my pocket, growing more compact with each awkward phrase you ejected. I could only look down at the amber. The deep amber of bubbles, hops and alcohol. When we first met I didn’t know about video games. I was broken when we first met. You were glue, and I could see you staying up nights trying to put back together pieces of shattered china. They say fragile handle with care. I say the more broken you are the less someone can new can break you. I used to say venomous things to get your attention. You used to throw furniture when I came home drunk. We are moving around each other cautiously. I know that there will never be fireworks on the fourth of July again. I will be spending that holiday inside eating popcorn and watching Red Dawn. I don’t want the sparklers. The bar is loud, I don’t know if you’ve been talking about the weather or sports or work. I just nod and say something general. Do you know how inside my head I am? The home movies of us are playing inside my brain, they look old and cinematic, with cigarette burns in the corner. There is no sound just us. We are running around the apartment and I’m in that dress you liked, the green one. You grab me around the waist and tackle me to the ground. We’re at sushi and I’m feeding you a Dynamite Roll, it’s hot and you swig back water. Christmas and you open the presents and we dance while your dad hands out whiskey shots. The little dogs bark at us and you kiss me. In the car one night we yell. In the grass one day we cry. You see me with roses on a bedside table in a hospital that I don’t belong in. I say good bye on a bed that isn’t mine, holding a kitten you bought me for my 23rd birthday. You just asked me a question, the screen fades. And I have you repeat it. I say it’s getting colder and I need to drive home soon. I can’t take the look in your eyes anymore. They are so far from what they used to be. I guess I am too, so far away. I will love you forever, but I just can’t. I can’t hurt anymore. I have to buy a new lotto ticket, re-deal the cards, I need a new hand. This one is played out. I will reshuffle you into the deck. We hug awkwardly and I walk out a door that I never should have walked back through. It’s true what they say, you can never go back.

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About deadendemily

Emily lives in Austin, TX. She has a minor in chaos and a major in spray paint. She likes Vincent Price and ABBA. She enjoys being covered in fake blood and writing horror stories. Most of the time she just hopes that her cat is not plotting to murder her, her cat being a minion of Satan and all. They would never suspect the cat.

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