This is the part of the story about my first time getting wasted that most don’t hear
This is the part of the story about my first time getting wasted that most don’t hear
the part when I wake up at Stacey’s house with her boyfriend on top of me,
holding a bottle of rye to my nose
the part when I think how I’d watched him roll cigarettes all night and kind of wished he was my boyfriend
the part when I wonder if Stacey will be mad
the part of my body he grabs when he says “that’s what you get for drinking, bitch” like a dark
public service announcement
the part of me that’s galvanized
when he does that
the part of my brain that had trouble coughing this memory up until other women took my hand
the part when I ask you not to share this on my facebook
but you can share it on Twitter b/c my parents don’t tweet
the part that doesn’t want things to be weird
between us
the part (in the story) where I’m so hungover I puke in his face
the part when I admit that didn’t happen, but I’d like the narrative to have some levity because I’m uncomfortable
telling this part
and I want us to laugh it off
