i didn’t read your script

i was too spent on xanax

and saying no

maybe tomorrow morning

when the snow has melted

and i feel less like a child

 

———————————–

 

your face got red:

i saw you as a child,

your mom at 25, her features

not yet defined by botox and wine-filled afternoons

your eyes were so green

it made me feel bad inside

 

———————————–

 

you left the tv on

gameshows like my grandmother

we were awash with white comforters

i wished you would stop talking

but i was grateful

you made me tea the next morning

Lizz Astor is a third year film major from Baltimore, MD, currently living in Brooklyn. When not writing and directing she is likely crying over corgi videos online.