three of cups

another friendship breakup poem

i-65 South through my lens

I still think

about the time

we had together

I drink it in

like wine.

Gorge myself

on memories,

become drunk

with possibility.

I’ve stained

my teeth red

in the name of

reminiscence.

I’ve made

my vision blurry

committing myself

to this stupor.

And when

the room stops

spinning,

I look

in the mirror.

All I see

when I smile

are traces

of us,

and

all the words

I should have

let pour forth

from my lips.

I remember

I did spill.

Made

my unholy confession

and

a mess of myself.

All that remains

to do

is wonder

If you ever got out

the stain.