i hide my coffee in hot chocolate
so that i can still drink it sort of
black without feeling like i'm
punishing a
hangover.

last night i moved out of my
mental breakdown head
and told my roommate i'd be
back when i knew i would
not and wandered with sock-covered feet
down the stairs and to the right and the door
opened before i knocked and dave threw me on
ryan's bed and because i was hyper-
ventilating. ryan told me to
breathe and we sat on the
edge of a techno song and
dave and i tried the fermented
mott's apple juice and they told me to take my
shirt off. i told them to go
fuck themselves and they set up
pillows on the floor so i could spend the
night, told me their room was always
open. ryan taped obama's
head to the wall and we said
goodnight to everything in the
room. brianna slid
in at two thirty.

i stood up from a
mess of pillows at
five past
eight and got dressed alone in my
room. i stumbled on a
bus lined with bloodshot
eyes and the
bleary radio and
wished i had
worn a scarf to
hold that advil inside my
throat.