slide and stumble.

Let me just…
You lie there while I slip into something comfortable.
Denial,
bad coping mechanisms,
and cheap lingerie.

I wear my recovery like perfume,
so I say,
lie back.
Let me just quickly put something on.
I don’t know what you are expecting,
but I’m almost naked and I smell like war.

Let me get ready for this.
I’ll smile and pretend the days will come;
without regret,
without you leaving.
Strip me bare
of illusions,
dreams,
and clothes.

In the end
there is nothing for you here,
I make better love to myself.
At least I don’t flinch at the sight of teeth.

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