New Year

By Annie Southard ‘23

it’s kind of sentimental

to look up at your chin

and to pick out the dimples

and to whisper my fingers against your cheek

where your eyes glisten and reflect onto

and it’s kind of stupid in its own way

because you’re not even real

you’ve just become a part of a dream

that i’ve hidden with all of my broken bones

and bruises

and wet bloody lips behind closed doors

and it’s kind of humiliating to feel this burn

this clawing sensation that i get

that pulls me into your arms

i’m trying to forget the way you touched my hair

and kissed my nose

i can still picture

how

your nails dug

dug into my chest

and it felt like i lost a chunk of my lung

it’s kind of nice to know

that you’re not even real.

not anymore.

i promise.

i’m over it.

over you.