the first day of the year
is filled with glitter and confetti
and exhilarated, hopeful kisses.
the first day of the year
is loud, it's deafening, midnight
pumps glitter and confetti into
the veins of the new year.
we cannot resist the temptation
of giving the year to each other,
to kiss as the song of the next
three hundred and sixty five days
bursts our eardrums,
we cannot stop our mouths
from making promises
we know we will not keep
but we do not fight against it.
the second day of the year
is hungover and sloppy.
people already have blood
pumping from their veins
onto cold bathroom tiles,
confetti and glitter
forgotten on abandoned tables,
another year someone
could not stand to live through.
there are already babies
sending shock waves
of shill cries through delivery rooms,
there are already fathers
not present for their child's birth,
there are already mothers
who have decided to not
name the child they just sent
from their womb so
they wouldn't get attached to it.
some girls are just now realizing
they don't have hymens anymore,
and some girls are just now realizing
they don't have their house keys
or their best friends
or what they thought
they couldn't live without.
two people already have noses
filled with white powder,
two people already have
hands stained with blood,
two people already have
hearts shattered upon their clothes
stretched across their chests.
people will cry the world to sleep.
there will be birthdays that go uncelebrated,
there will be murders
unaired on the news,
there will be a girl who wonders
what love is besides the hard smack
of a palm of a hand on a cheek.
there will be a boy who wonders
