“I give myself five days to forget you. on the first day I rust. on the second I wilt. on the third day I sit with friends but I think about your tongue. I clean my room on the fourth day. I clean my body on the fourth day. I try to replace your scent on the fourth day. the fifth day, I adorn myself like the mouth of an inmate. A wedding singer dressed in borrowed gold. The midas of cheap metal. tinsel in the middle of summer. crevice glitter, two days after the party. I glow the way unwanted things do, a neon sign that reads; come, I still taste like someone else’s mouth.”
— Warsan Shire (via thelovejournals)
















