you're too pretty to be upset over a guy the bartender says. we are sipping away the remnants of our youth. he wasted my prettiest years. my body is a landfill. somewhere lies a forgotten teddy bear. somewhere lies a used condom. i have torn up photographs for hair and arms made of mangled kisses. the martini glass tells me i'm pretty; the martini glass tells me but not enough. the martini glass opens up instagram, shows me happiness that i cannot reach for, so i tap the little red heart. you swan,

 he frog. the frog is kissed because he is loved. the ugly duckling is loved when she grows into a swan. a swan is immortalised as a ballerina. a ballerina is kept pristine in a musical box. turn the key. look how she dances for him. look at how the dust settles. the moral is simple. 

i look down the toilet bowl and see a reflection of grey feathers amidst orange coagulation. my fingers dig deep into my throat. somewhere inside, love has gone mouldy.